A Tangled Web Part 7: Borg On The Range
by ordinaryguy2
Summary: A new group of heroes is sent to stop the spread of the Borg throughout the multiverse. This time the setting is the American West in the late 1800's. Bad guys include Dr. Loveless and John Bly. The Good guys include ... well ... you're just going to have
1. Chapter 1

A TANGLED WEB: Part 7

Borg on the Range

She placed the dry mug down with group of mugs she had already cleaned; then reached for another wet one. She didn't need to do this work by hand, but there were times that she found the process of washing and drying dirty cups to be therapeutic. Guinin was halfway through drying the last one when she noticed the new presence in the bar. "Well, I see you are up and about again."

David Banner grinned sheepishly. "Morning. Sorry about the other day."

"Hey, I understand. I disappeared and then two Klingon ladies tried to pick you up."

David blushed. "I don't know what was up with those…those…whatever they were."

She laughed. "I know. I had become too busy myself with that group the Q cousins had set out against the Borg."

He looked awkward. "You like my new clothes. A reptile guy named Garak picked it out." He held out his arms and did a mock twirl.

"Purple pants with green trim?" Guinin regarded him quizzically. "Somehow against all the forces of nature in the universe it does seem to work for you. And the white shirt seems to fit fine."

He smiled though he didn't mention how odd her own red outfit seemed to him. "And Garak says the material will stretch if I were to undergo another transformation into the Hulk and still fit okay. Not that that should happen any time soon thanks to this bracelet that Drs. Crusher and Bashir gave me." He held up a metallic bracelet.

"Oh, and what is this?" She held out a hand and he held out his so that she could examine the bracelet. "Let me see. Something to monitor your vital signs: blood pressure, heart rate, perspiration, respiration and build up of radiation. Plus, a hypospray." She raised an eyebrow at him.

Banner shrugged. "It beats turning green and punching a hole through a hull and exposing us all to the vacuum of space."

The female bartender grinned. "And all of us on Deep Space Nine appreciate the extra control you are using."

David looked around. "I thought the short alien with the big ears and bad teeth ran this place."

Guinin nodded, and handed him a drink. "Quark, yes, this is Quark's Bar. And no I don't work here. I'm just lending a hand to a fellow bartender. He was exhausted and needed a break, but with everything being conducted here at his bar, he couldn't close the doors, so I told him I'd be willing to take over while he rested for a fee."

"A fee? I thought monetary value wasn't as important in this century?"

"He is a Ferengi and would be suspicious and refused payment of some kind."

Banner shook his head. "I guess I'll have to take a couple alien philosophy classes before I begin to understand everybody around here."

She frowned. "I think that you are going to have to drop that alien comment all the time. Some people may take offense."

David glanced about. Nobody seemed close enough to hear them. "I guess some of the … them have better hearing than we do."

"Not only that but some of 'them' are closer than you think."

"What?"

"Not all 'aliens' look very different than you Earthlings."

"What…you?"

She chuckled. You should have seen Samuel Clemens face when he found out."

"Mark Twaine?"

"The very one. My species has a very long lifespan."

David let out a deep breath. "I do have a lot to learn." He took a drink from the cup in front of him. "Mmmm! That has a kick to it. What is-"

A loud grinding sound began to fill the air of the bar disturbing the residents of the bar. Two of the admirals, a couple of their aides, and Captain Sisko all began stirring in the area that had been designated recently as the 'Admiral's Corner'. The ensigns running the scanning equipment on the six visual portals all began checking their data as the portals went blank. "They're returning!" one of the ensigns called out.

The TARDIS faded into appearance near one of the portals and was followed by two bright flashes of light caused by the arrival of Q and his fellow self-proclaimed omnipotent being that they called Q2.

"There goes the neighborhood," muttered Guinin.

Odo, who had been monitoring the mid-morning crowd from the entrance of Quark's Bar, tapped his comm-badge and alerted various people. Data, who had been helping to monitor all the high-speed data that had been collected, alerted the Enterprise and Voyager of the concluded missions. At the far end of the bar Vash turned from the conversation she had been having with the bar's most frequent patron, Morn. Tuvok and Vorik merely sat at their table, each holding a cup of herbal tea, and watched with interest.

As the doors opened open, the Doctor, with his long multi-colored scarf wrapped tight around him, stepped out and hurried over to the bar where Guinin immediately set out a cup of hot tea. She instinctively knew that he didn't want to talk so she left him there to drink in peace.

Next to exit the TARDIS was Jake Sisko who rushed over to his father. "Did you stay up all night, dad?"

Benjamin Sisko beamed a smile at his son. "Had to see what time my son, the dashing Casanova, was going to be coming home."

Jake was confused at first, until he remembered the six large visual portals that Q had established on one of the walls of the bar. Each portal would display the activities of one of the Q's chosen champions against the Borg while they were fighting in some parallel universe. Q had also made it so that wherever they faced the Borg, time would move at a faster rate than it did in their home universe, which meant that everything shown on the visual portals was displayed at an accelerated rate. Starfleet, always trying to search new horizons, had sent in visual recorder equipment so that they gather new data as well as replay the events that were recorded at a slower rate so that everybody could tell just what was transpiring. Which led Jake to conclude that that was just what his father had done and thus discovered his son's short romance with Angela, the beautiful young Gargoyle, he had met while facing the Borg in parallel version of Australia.

"Uh, dad-"

"Don't worry. I've set up a counseling session for you with Commander Riker."

"Dad!"

"Just kidding! Give your father a hug." Holding his son tight, he managed to say in a soft tone, "Thank you for coming home safely."

Worf walked by the scene looking for his own son. Deanna, who was being aided by the large Klingon to walk, glanced around the bar once she realized what he was doing. "Perhaps Alexander's on duty?"

Worf grunted to the possibility. "Computer, where is my son, Alexander?"

"Alexander is currently in Holodeck One," came the synthetic female voice.

The ridges on Worf's head furrowed slightly together. "Why would he be there?" he asked rhetorically.

Vic Fontaine, usually a holographic image whose sole domain was the confines of the holodeck, was walking past and provided an answer. "Doc was taking a group of Klingons up to my holo-suite before I got involved in all of this. It probably has something to do with that."

Worf glanced at the Voyager's holographic physician who was following behind the holo-singer.

Having overheard the comment, the holographic medical program shrugged. "All I did was engage a program that allowed the drunken Klingons to view the different parallel versions of Earth that were being engaged by the Borg."

"Worf," spoke up Ezri Dax as she approached. "Your son was asked by Captain Sisko to watch over our Klingon allies up in Holodeck One. Otherwise I'm sure he would have been here to great you."

Worf nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Lieutenant." His discomfort to her presence was obvious to everyone. A year before he had been married to Jadzia Dax. Then after she had been killed, the symbiont that shared her life experiences was taken to be hosted by another Trill. A young Trill that was later placed by Starfleet to be a counselor on Deep Space Nine.

Worf turned to the Voyager's medical program. "Doctor, I would-"

"Call me Doc," said the holographic physician.

"What?" Worf was becoming perplexed.

"Doc. It's what a fellow A.I. frequently called me when I was in Australia. And I have discovered that it is both a descriptive term of who I am as well as one that leads to familiarity. And since I have been looking for a name for myself I have chosen 'Doc'."

Worf frowned but chose not to argue. "Very well, Doc," he said, stressing the name. "Would you help Deanna to Sickbay? I need to check on my son." Before Deanna or anyone else could protest Worf bounded off toward the stairs that led to the holosuits.

"Well," Deanna said, more than a little surprised, "I guess I'll be hobbling along with you to Sickbay, Doc. How long did you say this treatment was going to take?"

"Not long," said Doc, as he happily led the less than happy Counselor off to Sickbay.

"He's still a little messed up over you," Vic commented, as he idly fingered one of the tables.

Ezri sighed. "Yes he is. But it is nice to see that he is moving on."

"You don't miss him?"

"Of course I do, but that was a whole different me. That was Jadzia Dax." She could see that he didn't understand. "Say that you take the salt out of salt water and put it in with chloride. Suddenly you would have sodium chloride. Take the salt away again and mix it with phosphate, then you will have sodium phosphate. Each time the sodium combines with a different element it is going to create different properties. The only difference is that the Dax symbiont brings along memories, emotions, experience, wisdom and so much more as it is passed from Trill host to Trill host. I am the ninth host for the Dax symbiont. I, as I was before the hosting, am primarily in control, but it's like I have these other aspects of myself that I can draw on."

"Oh sure," nodded Vic. "But does that mean that Worf isn't right for you now?"

She sat down hard on a nearby table, elbows on the table and hands supporting her face. "He's so freaked out by me presence that he can barely work on the same space station as me."

Vic patted her shoulder. "Give him time."

"I don't have time. He's already moving on to his old love, Deanna Troi. To make matters worse is that she is also a Counselor, a superior, and will want to talk to me about it." She glanced up at him. "And that terrifies me. How's that for ironic?"

Vic said nothing at first. "I think we are forgetting the big picture here."

"Huh, what picture?"

"The two Q's are already selecting the next team."

Ezri glanced over to see Morn, on the other side of the bar, sitting down after evidently having had his say over being selected, then folding his arms. Beside the large lumpy, bald alien sat a glum Chief O'Brien and an alert Commander LaForge, who had both evidently already been chosen.

Q2 sat on the table of the two admirals as he seemingly regarded his slowly growing audience, seeking among them for a suitable champion to set out against the Borg. "Not much to work with here. Let's see." He seemed to ponder as he tapped a finger against his chin. Just off to his side, the Q most people were familiar with gave an deep and dramatic sigh, though he didn't dare say anything.

"I know," Q2 said. "Let's see who here has risen the furthest against all expectations. And I'll use the collective unconsciousness of everybody here." He snapped his fingers for dramatic effect.

A flash of light caused Nog to appear in the middle of the bar just in front of O'Brien, LaForge and Morn. Scared and disoriented, realization quickly found its way to the young Ferengi's mind and he promptly froze in fear. A high pitched scream could be heard from Rom who was serving drinks to a table of Bajorans just before his father fainted.

"Well, little Ferengi, I see you wear the uniform of Starfleet," A flash of light revealed Q2 in a Starfleet Admiral's dress uniform. "But I doubt that you have the right stuff for this sort of mission. I don't see how you even made it through Starfleet Academy."

"I –I am Starfleet material!" Nog yelled out. He was so used to defending his position, both at the academy and at the station, that he had just blurted it out. His eyes widened in realization of just how close he was to a number of fates far worse than immediate termination.

Q2 paced in front of terrified ensign as if considering him. Off to the side, Q began biting his fingernails. "Perhaps you are acceptable by Starfleet's standards. They will let just about anyone try to get in," Q said to the audience. "But you couldn't handle it where I'd be sending you."

"Yes I could!" Nog's eyes were wide now and he was panting as if he were in a race, fear driving him, his words racing out before he could even think of what they meant.

"Oh really," Q2 said, amused. "Are you prepared for a fate such as this?"

A flash of Q power had converted Nog into a Borg drone. It's red laser eyepiece scanning the now panicked bar patrons. Odo urged people to the exit while rushing toward Nog. Others were likewise fleeing or trying to figure the best way to apprehend the poor young Ferengi. The Nog drone raised it's appendaged arm to scan it's surroundings, ignoring the frightened people around it.

"That's just pitiful," Q said scornfully. "There was no creativity in that."

Nog fell on his posterior breathing heavily, staring at his feet, then grasping at his right arm to confirm that it was back.

Q2 sulked at Q who looked bored. "Amateur," Q said.

Nog got his feet wobbly with the help of Chief O'Brien. "I am Starfleet material," he rasped to the chief. Miles said nothing but glared at Q2.

Q2 regarded the Ferengi again. "Oh, well. I guess he can go."

"No!" Ezri Dax marched forward before anyone could stop her. "He wouldn't survive. He doesn't have the experience to make it and you know it."

"How else would he gain the experience?" Q2 said mockingly.

Ezri's eyes hardened. "Let me go instead."

Odo moved forward, but literally froze at a glance from Q2.

"She does have a point," Q said, hoping to move this along. "And we do want to hurry."

"But there is so much to consider," said Q2 protested. "She does have a point. He is inexperienced for such a difficult thing like this. But it was so generous of her to offer her experience that I just had to think about it."

"What?" Ezri said confused.

"Very well I accept your terms. Nog will go with your experience."

A quick flash of light fell over Ezri Dax and Nog causing Ezri to collapse unconscious to the floor well Nog fell on his butt again. This time, however, he held his hands over his chest in horrific amazement. "What have you done? What have you done?"

Q2 turned to his captive audience and smiled wildly. "Everybody, I'd like you to meet the new and improved Nog Dax!"

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Author's Notes

Yea! I was able to get some time to write. Sorry to make it short. I was going to add some more before posting but I'll starting classes again on Monday so I can't say how soon I'll be able to write again. I have a whole section with Dr. Loveless already written down, I just have to type it up and make corrections. Yes Dr. Loveless from the TV show 'The Wild, Wild West' is to be my main villain. I will also be using John Bly from 'Brisco County Jr' but I need to do more research on him and the golden orbs he is always searching for. If anybody has information on John Bly and the Orbs I'd appreciate it if you would send it my way. And I'd love to tell you more but then I wouldn't have anything else to write.

By the way, I had not originally planned to give the Dax symbiont to Nog. I was just going through all my lists trying to make sure everything was all right. I was also trying to figure how to sneak Ezri into a mission when I had already chosen the six I wanted to go.

Team this time is:

Enterprise – LaForge & O'Brien

Deep Space Nine – Morn & Nog Dax

Voyager – Chakotay & Neelix


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

DEEP SPACE NINE, STILL ORBITTING EARTH

As the doors to the holodeck opened, Worf regretted leaving Deanna with the A.I. holo-medical doctor program, but after renewing his relationship with her he could not face Jadzia. No. Not Jadzia. Ezri. Ezri who had all of Jadzia's memories.

In retrospect, he should have just asked Ezri or even Vic Fontaine to check on his son, Alexander, for him while he accompanied Deanna to Sickbay. He would have to make amends to Deanna for his actions. He figured that she would forgive him since her Betazoid abilities would have alerted her to his anxiety. Unfortunately, it may also make her wish to have him talk about his feeling on the whole Ezri-Jadzia subject and how it complicated his working on Deep Space Nine.

He was glad to be able to focus his attention on something else at that point, however, at this time it happened to be on a female Borg drone facing a pair of unarmed drunk Klingons in a late 20th century dwelling setting on Earth, over a dozen other Klingons lay passed out around a couch and a few on the stairs. He was about to call for security when he noticed that the drone had two human hands and some of the Borg features had been removed. Then he recognized the drone as Wade Welles, the friend of Rembrandt Brown and Quinn Mallory, the designated Sliders. Dr. Crusher and Bashir would have been responsible for the return of the arm on Welles but he could not believe that they would have let her out this early in her transformation back to being Human. From what he remembered, she had been freed from the Collective under unusual circumstances, leading her to have freedom of choice and much, if not all, of her regular personality.

"What is going on here!" he demanded with as much authority as he could muster.

"Father!"

"I'll tell you what is going on!" A man in a very wrinkled light blue shirt stood up from a badly damaged couch to point his finger at Welles. Worf noted with disgust that the individual had his pants unzipped so that excess of his slightly bulging abdomen was unhindered. "This badly-dressed dominatrix took our Universal Remote and won't return it!" He looked back at his Klingon buddies and they growled approval at his facing this threat. "Now I'm the man of this house so if you have any influence over that female, I'd thank you to have her hand it over."

"Uh, father," interjected Alexander. "That device – the remote – is how we have been viewing the various alternate universes that have been compromised by the Borg." He pointed to the unkempt figure next to him who was beckoning annoyingly to Welles for the remote. "This is Al Bundy. He's a hologram that been showing us the different battle scenes with the remote."

Al looked at the younger Klingon strangely. "Listen, I don't mind being called a honky from time to time, but please don't try out the new street terms out on me. I just don't have a frame of reference as to how to react."

Worf didn't even bother to try understand the hologram. "Computer, freeze program." The holo-simulation of Al Bundy froze in place just as he was about to redirect his attention on Worf.

"Alexander, explain," Worf said.

Rather than argue, Worf's son did just that. Once it was realized that there was no one to supervise the Klingons virtual viewing of the Borg extradimentional invasions, Alexander had been asked by Odo to keep an eye on the two inebriated Klingons as they struggled to wake their comrades. Off to one side Worf saw a pan of racht simmering in sauce under the unconscious supervision of Kaga, Deep Space Nine's resident Klingon chef.

"Hey man, uh," The dimensional traveler known as Rembrandt approached nervously. "Worf, right? You took my statement up in the ER, uh, Sickbay I mean. Listen, I think I can explain everything if you just give me a chance."

"Why does she need the Universal Remote?" Worf asked. The massive viewing screen that stood in place of a wall in front of the couch currently displayed a drone working on installing an optical implant in a heavily wooded area to a large, hairy creature that Worf would scrutinize latter to determine that it was a Sasquatch, also known as a Bigfoot.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you is that she is looking for a companion of ours, Professor Maximillian Arturo. He was also made into a Borg drone and may be on one of those parallel worlds like Wade was."

Worf regarded Wade Welles again. She still wore the black suit of the drones, but now had two eyes and arms again. "She has not completed her recovery," he stated.

"But Dr. Bashir said she could go for a walk, but had to come back later to rest. He also wanted to wait for Voyager's doctor to return before doing any more corrections to her," her other friend, Quinn Mallory added.

"Hey! They're fighting the Kromaggs!" shouted Quinn. On the view screen another battle was commencing with the Borg, but this time in an urban setting with large buildings.

To Worf the Kromaggs appeared very similar to Humans, though slightly different in their evolution. Their teeth were sharp and pointed. Their heads more block-like in appearance as well as being bald and with no facial hair. Worf also noticed they were much larger than Human and were very strong. He wouldn't have minded fighting against them some day, and made a mental note to make a battle simulation to face them in the holo-deck at a later date.

"Let them see how they like being invaded for once!" cheered Rembrandt.

"These Kromaggs are your enemies?" asked Worf.

"Let me put it to you this way. They think Human eyes are a delicacy. And they don't like the fact that most parallel Earths are populated by Human instead of Kromaggs so they are doing their best to change that situation by doing their own invading."

The view changed and Worf was aware that Wade had changed the 'channel'. This new view showed the interior of a wooden work shed illuminated by a single light bulb. A man lay unconscious on his back on the dirt floor. Borg drones roughly one-twelfth the man's size were crawling insect-like over the man's body as they worked together in the assimilation process. A dead drone that lay near the giant's open wallet was being disassembled for parts while another nearby drone was setting up one of the replicators they had brought with them. Worf noted with interest that the identification visible in the open wallet was to an Inspector Kobick who worked for an agency called SID.

Wade Welles pushed another button and suddenly the viewers were subject to a 1950's malt shop setting. What caught everyones eye right away was a young woman in a blue sweater with an italics large L embroidered on her upper left side was frantically riding piggyback on a drone as it chased her female companion.

"Run for it, Shirl!"

"Where? They're all over the parking lot!" Shirley dove back and forth as the drone attempted to reach her.

Peeking out from the men's room, two young men were looking over the fallen form of one of their comrades. "Ralph, what do we do? Cunningham has stuff spreading all over his skin."

Ralph bit his knuckles. "How would I know, Potsie?"

"Well, you've spent a lot of time at the drive-in when they had all those science-fiction movies. Didn't you learn anything?"

Ralph rapped his knuckles on Potsie's head. "I wasn't watching those movies. I was making out with a girl."

"Oh yeah."

A squeal of a motorcycle's wheels distracted Shirley, but she quickly ducked under a table when the drone swung its tubule-equipped arm at her. A motorcycle drove through the main entryway carrying two passengers who aimed the disengaged themselves from the vehicle just before it hit the drone. The young woman with the capital L on her sweater managed to get clear in time but had fallen hard on her butt on the floor.

"Heyyyyy! The Fonz is in the building!" A young dark haired man in a black leather jacket pulled out a comb and ran it through his hair quickly before putting it away and offering lady with the L sweater a hand off the floor.

"Is it safe?" Shirley asked from her position under the table.

"I don't know, Shirl," said her companion. "I may be down there with you in a second."

"Heyyyy!" Fonzee said, taking offense.

"Fonzee," interjected his young riding companion, Chachi. "It's Ritchie." He pointed to where Ralph and Potsie.

"What happened?"

"That-that-that guy stuck him with something and now Ritchie is like this," stated Ralph, almost bursting to tears.

Fonzee turned to 'that guy' in question as the drone was freeing himself from Fonzee's motorcycle. "Careful of my bike!"

In response the drone took a swipe with tubules expended which the Fonzee jumped back and barely avoided, however his jacket was not so fortunate.

"My jacket? You cut my jacket?" He frowned, taking off his jacket to look at the strange gray cut, which left him with just a T-shirt on while backing away from the slow walking drone. "That was so not cool."

Setting down his jacket, the Fonz grabbed a dish tray and blocked the tubules with his right hand, kicked away the appendaged arm, and smacked his left fist against the drone's chest. The drone regarded the Fonz for just a moment of what seemed to be surprise before all it's limbs became limp and it fell over

As Wade 'changed the channel' again, Worf noticed that he was finding the viewing enjoyable. He wasn't sure if this was the normal reaction to an Earth national pastime or if watching the fighting charged up his Klingon blood.

Amidst a setting that was a cross between an apocalypse and a junkyard, a sign could be seen stating the entry into Chicago. A dozen drones could be observed in the distance have a firefight with a man and a woman in white and light-blue uniforms. Nearer the screen, two drones were cornering a small humanoid shaped robot that seemed frightened.

"There he is," announced Wade, finally speaking.

"Oh my God! It is him! You did it, Wade!" Quinn said.

"Now what do we do?" asked Rembrandt.

Wade held out the universal remote. "Now I push the interaction button."

The massive screen blurred slightly as the two-dimensional picture suddenly became three dimensional. Two reactions were immediately apparent. The two closest drones, Prof. Arturo and a male Bolian, turned to where the screen had once been and the little robot, seeing a venue of escape, took it and ran toward the screen and into the holodeck.

"Bidibidibidi. Help! Buck! Help! Wilma! They're after me!" He came to a stop right in front of Wade Welles who regarded him curiously. "Help! They're in here, too!"

The little robot turned left and dashed straight towards a group of drunken Klingons that were just getting to their feet as they regained senses. The Klingons, seeing the two Borg drones step through the temporal view screen bellowed savagely, perhaps partially to rouse their passed out comrades as well as to raise their warrior spirit.

"Security!" Worf shouted into his comm. badge. "Security to the holodecks! We have Borg! This is not a simulation!"

The Bolian drone had stunned two of the Klingons before a handful of racht hit him in the face obscuring the dining room table that hit it moments later. While the Klingons were unarmed they quickly found weapons from objects around the room and made ready to attack.

Worf, having lost his weapon to the time lord's experiments while in Australia, found himself similarly unarmed, so he picked up the now empty couch and thrust it at the Arturo drone. The drone blasted the couch back into the oblivion from where it had been created. Then it turned and starred at Wade Welles.

"Wade?" asked Quinn.

"We are communicating. He is trying to contact the Borg vessel in Earth's solar orbit, but I am blocking his connection to the Collective."

Unnoticed, the small robot hurriedly ran back through the temporal view screen to the disheveled Chicago. "Bidibidibidi. Help! Buck! This place is crazy!"

Worf used the coffee table to knock the drone's firing appendage away in order to get close and grapple. He had forgotten the strength that was installed in each drone, as the Arturo was slowly gaining the upper hand. Rembrandt and Quinn tried to help but knew to step out of the way when Wade approached. Reaching over, Wade introduced her tubules into the neck of the Arturo drone. "Resistance is futile," she said.

"What are you doing now, girl?" asked a nervous Rembrandt.

"It will give me some control over him."

Shaking from exertion, Worf could see more drones approaching the view screen opening and made a decision. "Alexander, take the remote control."

Obeying, Alexander grabbed the remote, but Wade was not about to relinquish control.

"Let go!" Alexander shouted. He did not relish being so close to a Borg drone, even if it was one that was suppose to be on his side.

The Klingons, battle lust fueled by blood wine building in their veins and standing over the dead body of the Bolian drone, turned to face the enemy they had been watching all night. As Alexander pulled with his two Klingon hands against Wade's one Borg enhanced hand, his struggling fingers slipped over some of the buttons of the remote. The result being that as the Klingons entered the temporal viewscreen other dimensional Earths clicked into view, losing small groups of Klingons among a myriad of Borg battlefronts.

Finally the Arturo drone became limp and Worf found himself helping the cybernetic man down onto the holographic carpet, next to the feet of the still form of Al Bundy.

"Hey everybody, let's remember that we are all on the same time," Quinn said trying to pacify the situation.

Just then, Alexander pulled the remote away, turned and shut off the temporal viewer causing the screen to go dark.

"What have you done?" Wade asked, with a surprising amount of emotion.

"Uh," Alexander glanced skeptically at the remote but was not able to come up with an answer.

"You have trapped your comrades in foreign environment populated by the Borg."

"Can't you just pushed the buttons you pushed before and find them?"

She sighed. A very Human response, Worf thought. "Yes, I know what buttons I pushed. And I can trace back the buttons I pushed while you were trying to wrest control from me. But can you tell me what buttons you pushed?"

Alexander had no answer. There were a lot of buttons on the universal remote and he hadn't a clue what half of them did.

Just them Odo lead a security team onto the holodeck. Rembrandt and Quinn had their hands up from frequent experience at this sort of thing. Worf knew it was going to be a long night and attempted a sigh of his own.

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Time to test you television and movie knowledge.

The giant with the ID that identified him as Inspector Kobrick, was he a good guy or a bad guy? And what show was he on?

Who is the young lady wearing the sweater with the capital L embroidered on it?

Who is the little robot running around in an apocalyptic future setting calling out for Buck and Wilma? Who did the voice for this robot?

The actor that played Kaga, Deep Space Nine's resident Klingon chef, also did the voice for which Simpson character?

Author's note: I was going to wait to post this so that I could add the western storyline as well but it is taking to long to get down. I had fun writing this part. Hope you enjoy it as well.

Also, I now have Klingons about fifteen Klingons or more scattered in groups of two, three or four in different parts of the multiverse. I don't plan to do any storyline with them except return surviving ones at the very end of my story. If anybody wants to write a story concerning them, it sounds good to me. I just want to know about it. Lots of people have asked me to use Farscape, Andromeda, or Earth: Final Conflict in my storyline, but I was never familiar enough with those shows to use the characters well enough. Here's a chance for someone else to do just that. I also think Men in Black would be a good one to consider as well.

Please send fan reviews. Send ideas, too. I may choice not to use them, but it sure encourages me to write knowing that someone is contemplating my story that much.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

THE HIDDEN CITADEL OF DR. MIGEULITO LOVELESS

The three foot tall man hobbled down the stony corridor. Pausing once, he just stood breathing deeply to catch his breath.

"Shall I get a wheelchair?" offered his beautiful dark-haired companion.

"Nonsense!" snapped the little man. "I'll confront the prisoner under my own power."

"Very well, M."

"M? M? My name, as you well know, is Dr. Miguelito Loveless. You may call me Miguelito under our more intimate occasions - but M? What self-respected scientific genius could call himself a letter of the alphabet?"

The young lady managed to put a smile on her face although it was obvious her feelings were hurt. Isabeau had come from out of the east coast like many young ladies, leaving behind her struggling family, hoping that things would work out better in the new, romantic west coast. And like most of these young ladies, she soon discovered that she was easy prey for someone along the way. Her misfortune happened to be that her dark hair and extemporary figure caught the attention of Dr. Loveless. Seeing that she was not revolved by his shrunken frame, admired his intellect, and that he could tolerate conversation with her, he took it upon himself to keep her.

She was already out of his mind as he straightened his back before pushing at an indistinguishable stone on the wall with his cane. A slight click could be heard just before a large portion of the wall slid away revealing a well-lit cavern. Inside, three of his stooges stood up from a card game they were playing using an old barrel as a table and rickety wooden boxes as seats.

Loveless scowled. "You were told to remain on your guard. You know the trouble we went through to get the prisoner."

The black haired crony with a bowl cut, the more brazen of the three, spoke up. "John Bly's with him," he said, thumbing in the direction of the hall behind them.

"Yeah, Bly said he wanted to talk to him alone," said the rotund, bald haired man with the high voice, smiling without concern.

The dark haired henchman hit the larger, short haired henchman hard in the gut causing him to fall onto one of the wooden boxes which fell apart under him. "Shut up, you!" he said, unconcerned if he was hurt or not.

"Bly scares us," said the third man with a receding hairline and bushy, unkempt red hair. "Almost as much as that new prisoner does." The redhead ducked from a blow from his dark haired companion.

"He scares you?" roared Loveless, causing Isabeau to step back with concern. "It is I, Dr. Miguelito Loveless, that you should be terrified of!" The end of his cane rose up and out shot liquid fire from the end of it spraying all around the three men who clustered together in fear.

As quickly as he began, Loveless turned off the flow of flames, and stood there leaning on his cane as the flames slowly died on the rock floor and walls, breathing deeply.

"Mig- Dr. Loveless?" Isabeau placed a concerned hand on his shoulder.

Loveless looked up, slightly startled, but then regained his maniacal composure. "Yes. Enough of this foolishness. You three will lead me to Bly and our new prisoner." He pointed down the tunnel with his cane for emphasis, which had its desired affect on the three men.

The black-haired henchman nodded to Loveless, and then with an angry scowl grabbed an ear of each of his fellow stooges and pulled then to their tip toes. "You knuckleheads heard the man. Let's lead him to Bly and the prisoner." He started walking with them, but then suddenly let go of their ears and gave them each a quick push forward. The plump man looked like he was about to strike out at the black-haired man but was immediately intimidated by the other man's raised fist. He smiled weakly and resumed walking ahead with his redheaded companion.

Loveless followed after his dim-witted henchmen thinking intently on John Bly and the ways he might punish him. After a minute, he had to regain his breath and he thought of putting in a motorized cart to travel in the tunnels, and then dismissed the idea due to contaminating the limited air supply of the tunnels. He concluded that the only reasonable means of locomotion in the tunnels would be on rails using an electrical or magnetic means of compulsion. He discovered he was smiling and he realized that he had been in a funk for a week and was only now feeling like his old self.

As they neared the first cavern they could hear some half-hearted singing coming from the cells. As they entered the well lit area they could see a giant of a man over seven feet tall sitting on a wooden table next to three tins of slightly steaming stew. He was chuckling and taping his foot to the lyrics about a brother and sister named Willie and Nellie running through the night from a supposed lake monster.

"What's going on here?" demanded Loveless.

"Someone's in trouble!" the redheaded henchman sang out.

His dark haired companion slapped him on the side of the head. "Shut up, you moron, or the doctor will be mad at us, too."

Loveless ignored the idiotic henchmen. "Well?" he demanded.

The giant of a man, Voltaire, had worked for Loveless for decades. He was familiar with Dr. Loveless' outbursts and was not troubled. "They sing for their supper. I make them."

Loveless' face fell. "Ah, Voltaire. You miss the singing of Antoinette and myself. I, too, am periodically touched by the grief of her departure. She is the only one to have-"

"They are funny!" laughed Voltaire, pointing to the caged men who had now stopped in their musical endeavors.

The face of the small genius hardened. But before he could verbally lash out, one of his prisoners began yelling. "Let us out of here, Loveless! You'll never get away with any of this!" The man, Joseph 'Little Joe' Cartwright, looked disheveled as any man kept for weeks in a dungeon would look: filthy, wrinkled clothes, bad body order, and well into the growth of a beard.

"Why is this man still alive?" demanded Loveless, casting about wild-eyed for an answer.

The three hired hands glanced nervously at each other, while Voltaire became grim and put away his leather bag of sweets.

It was Isabeau that chose to interrupt his rant. She put a soft hand on his shoulder. "They don't know what you're talking about, Dr. Loveless. You've been brooding in your chambers for weeks. This new development in Stockton is the only thing that you were willing to respond to. And with all it took to get you that-that prisoner." She was visibly shaken. "You hadn't said anything about Mr. Cartwright."

He grunted in acknowledgement. "The plans I had for Ben Cartwright's money and land are irrelevant now so…" He pulled a revolver out from his holster and aimed it at Little Joe's chest.

Joe, the youngest of the Cartwright's, didn't even flinch at he looked down the barrel of the gun. Isabeau, not liking the thought of being a part of cold-blooded murder, especially right in front of her, thought quickly. "Perhaps," she said as casually as she could, "he could serve some other purpose?"

Aiming, Miguelito contemplated her suggestion. This is why he kept her in his company. She had that rare talent of being able to dissuade him from acting rashly. _So much like Antoinette_, he thought, _but not Antoinette_. "Very well, I shall not squander my resources. No, there may be something that I want to try on him." He laughed causing Joe Cartwright to turn pale.

"Excuse me, Dr. Loveless."

The short egomaniac regarded the other prisoner who had just spoken. This one he had some respect for. "Yes?"

"Um, you've been ignoring us. Huitzilopochtli and I have each made our moves seventeen days ago."

Loveless glanced down at the chessboards that were next to the bars of the two men. Both boards showed a gathering of dust and even a few cobwebs that alluded to his total disregard for recent events. Janos Bartok and his assistant, Huitzilopochtli Ramos, had both been here for months, which was evident in the full beards both men wore. They had been part of a scientific team put together by the United States military when two more large golden orbs had been discovered. Initially, Loveless had taken the two scientists hostage in order to learn what they may have discovered from the two orbs which was not much. But he had also discovered that they were true innovators of science and he could actually discuss many of his theories or show some of his experiments and they would listen in awe and ask good questions. It was true that he could not consider them his peers, he had no peers, but it was good to finally be admired by somebody who understood some of what they were admiring. And if they tried to leave he would kill them and they knew that. Besides they were rather good chess partners.

He hobbled over to regard the two chessboards.

Huitzilopochtli grinned through his beard. "I think you will find that I have you in check in fou-"

Loveless moved one of the bishops. "But I have you in checkmate in two."

"What? How?"

Loveless ignored the question and regarded Janos. "I may have something interesting to show you soon."

"Anything would be nice at this point. We are going out of our minds with boredom."

"Some of my agents have acquired the recent find of some of Di Vinchi's scientific journals. I'll have them brought down for you to study."

"Yes! That would be great!" Janos was so happy at the opportunity he had forgotten his environment and the circumstances that brought him here.

Loveless chuckled. "You have finally done it. You have me in checkmate, though it would take three pointless moves to do so."

"And it only took me seventy-eight games to do so," Janos said, with a smile.

Once again, Loveless regretted the fact that he could not be a genuine friend to the man. Instead he had to settle for this pseudo-relationship.

"You there!" barked Loveless as he turned. The three henchmen jumped up from where they had just sat down. "Guard this man," he said, pointing to Cartwright, "as if your lives depended on it. Because they do!"

The three men stood at attention. "Yes sir!" they chorused.

The dwarf, with an ego and weaponry that would have made Napoleon envious, hobbled down the tunnel that led to his special prisoner. A prisoner that John Bly was trying to interrogate. "Isabeau. You can stay here if you want. You may not want to see this. Voltaire, you come with me." He didn't turn to see what they were doing. Isabeau had chosen to stay as he knew she would. And Voltaire's footsteps could be heard echoing from just behind him.

"Voltaire, old friend, I have not been myself lately." The giant said nothing, but the mad genius was used to doing all the talking and paid it no heed. "I have some old sound recordings of Antoinette and I singing. You would like to listen to them, yes?"

Voltaire grinned. "Yes, I miss Antoinette. I miss your singing together." His voice was slow, as if he was slightly forced in trying to get the words pronounced correctly.

The little megalomaniac stopped, staring at the floor. "You weren't here when she left. You were off in the Far East being trained in martial arts and weaponry. It was so sad. My fault mostly, though."

"She will come back maybe?" Voltaire asked, with almost a child-like innocence.

"Where she has gone there is little chance of return." He sighed full of melancholy. Loveless shook himself. Now that he was motivated, he was not about to let depression hamper him again. "Come," he almost shouted, "it's time we dealt with Mr. John Bly. He must learn who is lord and master here. If we chose to let him live that is."

Bly had come into his service unexpectedly, but on related circumstances that he had employed the three idiot henchmen, who he would normally have nothing to do with as they were so unreliable. But they were all interconnected with those damn enigmatic orbs so he had employed all of them.

Trouble first arose when he and his men had slipped past the unwary cavalry guards and absconded with the two mysterious orbs as well as the two scientists who had been studying them. It was as the wagon was crossing the bridge when Ernest Pratt a.k.a. Nicodemus Legend, a western dime store novelist who had somehow become outfitted with a number of scientific gadgetry in order to pass himself off as the heroic, adventurous champion that he wrote about, made his presence known. The result was the wagon, three of Loveless's men, Nicodemus Legend, and the two orbs being swept away by the rushing waters under the bridge. That was the last he had seen of Nicodemus Legend, but fortunately not the two orbs.

Miles downstream he had found the two golden orbs in the possession of three wet, filthy men who had found the orbs while panning for gold in the river. They were still dancing to their great fortune when they found themselves suddenly surrounded. Loveless, having little compassion, ordered his men to fire on the hapless fools, but when the gun smoke cleared the three men were cowering in each others arms, begging for mercy. Swearing at his mens' incompetence, Miguelito pulled his own self-designed rifle which had been designed to pierce up to two inches of iron. He systematically shot each of the cringing men to very little affect. It was to his astonishment that Loveless realized that the three men could feel pain but were otherwise completely invulnerable. Later after some quick talking he had convinced the three men that attackers had stolen the orbs from him upstream and that he and his men had just assumed that they were part of the gang of thieves. Soon he had hired them on and had them back at his secret lair where he was able to conduct a number of 'medical evaluations'.

The bodies of the three men proved invulnerable to all manner in destructive tests ranging from fire, acid, an air vacuum, poison, and an experimental laser beam. Miguelito had been so ecstatic that he giggled uncontrollable to himself for over an hour. It was later that he realized that he couldn't duplicate whatever had happened to the three men to make them vulnerable. And if he couldn't duplicate the process, he would not be able to determine if the event also resulted in people becoming imbeciles. As much as he wanted to become invulnerable, and even more immortal, he could not do such a thing to himself if it meant losing his intellect. And now with his mortality in question, solving the problem of getting the orbs to repeat the process was proving to be a wicked conundrum.

Months had been dedicated to his study of the orbs leaving many of his other projects to flounder. The only results happened one dark and dreary night. While trying a number of various light wave radiation patterns on their surfaces, the orbs sizzled briefly with power, then expelled a burst of white light. Upon the floor between the two hanging orbs lay the naked, frost-covered body of an unconscious man that would later reveal himself to be the notorious John Bly that had disappeared almost a year before.

Loveless' resources bordered on spectacular when it came to knowing tidbits of information. Thus, he knew that John Bly had quickly become known as an infamous leader of a dangerous band of cutthroats out to make a name for themselves as well as a lot of money.

He was most noted for the killing of Marshal Briscoe County Sr.. The marshal's son, Briscoe County Jr., returned from the east coast, where he had received a law degree at Harvard, to take his father's place as marshal and was soon chasing after his father's killer.

Loveless had taken in Bly as he proved to be smarter than the average gunslinger Loveless employed. Bly actually proved to be rather good at leading the raids and undercover assignments that Loveless needed done, such as kidnapping Ben Cartwright's son. In retrospect, Loveless could see that Bly was biding his time, immersing himself in the evil genius' organization, winning over Miguelito's operatives, preparing for a day when Bly could just take over everything. The short mastermind's bout with depression must have seemed like a godsend to Bly, as he was able to prepare more in weeks than he had in months.

But when Miguelito suddenly snapped out of his depressive funk enough to send Bly and his men to the nearby city of Stockton in California's San Joaquin Valley. The evil mastermind had become intrigued by the unusual events taking place there reported to him be a scout that Bly had not meet yet. Bly's instructions had been simply to secure a prisoner from the population that could explain the change going on there. The results had been disastrous in over half of the men with Bly had been either killed or captured. Of those that survived, many had run off. But through it all Bly had managed to capture one like he had been told and brought him back.

It was while Bly had been away that Isabeau had managed to provide proof to Loveless of Bly's intentions. And now Bly was interrogating the prisoner when Loveless had left specific instructions that everyone was to leave alone.

As they turned into the next corridor, Loveless could see Bly pacing in front of the barred cell of the prisoner.

"You've said that already," Bly shouted in an exasperated tone. "But what does it mean? What or who are the Borg? Is it a Swedish organization bent on taking over the world. Or is the word Borg an acronym for something? Tell Me!"

Bly! Miguelito's teeth ground together as he prepared himself. "Bly!"

Bly whirled toward them while drawing his gun.

A small strand of lightning leapt form the gem at the top of Loveless' cane, striking Bly's gun out of his hand. The outlaw flexed his hand painfully but managed a grin. "You startled me." He was very aware of the anger radiating from Loveless. He was also aware of Voltaire circling around him but he did not dare take him eyes off the master of the giant fool.

"You are not a guest here, Mr. Bly. You are an employee, and as such you are to obey my rules. To. The. Letter."

"I've read about you, Dr. Loveless. Information may have sketchy, but I know that you don't have long before you lose all of this. I know your secret. And with Antoinette gone who are you going to leave your 'empire' to? The simpleton Voltaire?"

Voltaire lunged as Bly had intended. He side-stepped and delivered a blow to the big man's kidneys as he past. Voltaire looked back darkly at Bly as he rubbed the sore spot on his side.

"Remember your training!" Loveless shouted. "Focus on your moves!" The mad scientist gripped his cane with both hands, trying to live the fight through Voltaire's actions. "Pretend he's James West!" he suggested. "And tear him to bits!"

Bly struggled with the giant, and had quickly come to the conclusion that he had underestimated the skill of the giant man and found himself being squeezed in his grasp. A vertebra in his spine began screaming to him as he slipped a small paper packet from his sleeve. Managing to break it open he threw the contents of the small paper container into Voltaire's face.

The giant flung the outlaw away, trying to wipe the black pepper from his eyes. Loveless, realizing Bly was free to flee, aimed his cane at the villain only to realize that Voltaire's stumbling bulk was in the way. "Voltaire! Get down!"

"Where?" asked the giant, wiping his eyes.

"To the ground! Now!"

Voltaire finally dropped to the ground but Bly had already fled down the corridor and made a turn.

The giant was using a canteen of water to flush the black pepper from his eyes. When he had used it all up he flung to at the stony wall. "Where?" he yelled.

"Down there. Probably going to the stables."

After Voltaire had left, Loveless turned to the mater of higher priority: the prisoner that had been sitting silently in the cell observing everything. The prisoner was secured with chains and leather straps to a metal chair that had been used more for intimidation purposes that anything else until today. "I went to a lot of trouble to bring you here. You'll have noted by now that all your limbs are securely restrained. You will tell me what I want to know. Resistance is futile." He pushed a chair over and, after a moments struggle, managed to get himself sitting up in front of the prisoner so that they could be face to face. "Tell me about the Borg."

"We are the Borg," said the prisoner.

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Across the countryside a most unusual voice could be heard conveying an unusual message in a very unusual musical tone.

"_The mule an' the fool; there ain't no comparison._

_The mule has a heap of brains; the fool not a wit._

_The Lord built 'em on the run, and must have had a heap of fun, _

_A mule ain't a he or she, he's nothin' but an it._

_Poor mule, work all day; pullin' tugs for yur oats and hay._

_You get yur lonesome stall when the lanterns lit, _

_but you git no lovin' because yu're nothin' but an it."_

"Must you do that?" complained a man.

"What?"

"Sing. If that is what you think you are doing?" Briscoe said from where he sat on Comet's saddle.

"I think that he has a very interesting voice," interjected a man riding on the wagon with the singer.

Brisco marked the speaker, Artemus Gordon, as a joker who would take an opposite side just to make things more interesting. Brisco was known for doing that himself and he didn't appreciate the tactic being used against him. "You're not helping, Gordon."

"I'll have you know," commented the singer, "that back when I was a deputy in Dodge City, people would come from four or five counties away just to hear some of my little songs."

"You know," interjected a man riding a jet black horse near Brisco, "my pappy used to say that you should never put down the simple pleasures of another man, especially when you can see that they are totting a gun."

The marshal, seeing that he was being outvoted, adjusted his hat in the hot sun. "Well, I for one didn't come all the way to listen to your songs." He spurred his horse forward leaving the others in his dust. In truth he didn't mind the singing that much. What was stuck in his craw had to do with another matter entirely. Former secret service agent James West.

Comet quickly caught up to the other riders that had been just a few dozen yards ahead and fell in along side them. "Any sign of Bowler?"

James West and Hoss Cartwright turned to regard him. James West, along with Artemus Gordon were both semi-retired secret service agents; semi-retired meaning that they no longer official worked for the government but would rise to the occasion whenever they got a lead on their old nemesis Dr. Loveless.

Hoss Cartwright was large mountain of a man, very friendly but also quiet and caring. He had been on a cattle drive with his brother when they had been attacked by Loveless' men. His brother had been taken hostage for ransom and the deed to the Ponderosa. Why Loveless wanted the Ponderosa, especially in such a manner that could be contested in court later, was anybodies guess. But the twisted mind of Dr. Miguelito Loveless was not something to take lightly which was why they had a trunk full of money on the wagon and the deed to the Ponderosa in his pocket. "Naw," he answered. "Bowler's still a few miles out."

"Well, he's one of the best scout's there is. If this Loveless character is out there, Bowler will get a line on him."

West said nothing, but turned to regard the distant hills.

Briscoe frowned, feeling challenged by West's presence. "Just to remind you, West. I'm in charge here. You are retired. I've been appointed an agent by President Cleveland himself. You are only her as a courtesy to Mr. Cartwright and for possible insight to this Loveless character."

"I've never questioned that," West said, turning to give Briscoe a look that told him absolutely nothing of how he felt. Then he pulled out a collapsible telescope to regard the trail up ahead.

James T. West had a confidence about him that Brisco couldn't help but admire. Unfortunately, it also made Briscoe his own leadership abilities. It didn't help that West was also one of the many lawmen who had known and fought alongside his father, Brisco County, Sr. a number of times over the years.

"Just so we know, that's all," Brisco said.

"Listen," Hoss interrupted. "I don't care who's in charge. I just want to get my little brother back safely from this madman. My father has already buried three wives and my brother Adam. He shouldn't have to lose Joe, too."

West lowered his eyeglass and looked Hoss in the eye. "We'll get your brother back. And hopefully the men that took him as well."

Briscoe nodded in agreement. "Well, I think that I'll ride on ahead and check with Bowler. We should be back by nightfall." He had been acting childish. Something he couldn't do if he was going to lead these men. He needed to get out in the open and get his head on straight before returning to the others.

"We'll try to have something cooking on the fire when you get in," West said, as if understanding what the younger man may have been thinking.

Brisco spurred Comet on following after Bowler's trail.

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Kwai Chang Caine squished the drying horse dung between his fingers noting the moisture and consistence of it's mass.

"Well?" asked the man sitting atop a white horse. The man wore a light blue shirt that indicated a strong frame, but it's stooping angle indicated an aching tiredness. On his face he wore a black mask that seemed very significant to him. Years earlier he, his brother and five other rangers had all been gunned down and left for dead. He had been the only survivor and had fashion the mask from the black vest of his dead brother so that he could avenge them without endangering any other family members or friends. Now he wore it while going to avenge one more wrongful death. His best friend. The best friend a man could ever have.

Caine wiped his hands on the grass before standing up. "Tonto was a good man. He will be remembered."

The Lone Ranger nodded to his comrade. "More than that, he will be avenged. One of those men up ahead caused his death and I will have him." He began to cough convulsively, to which the Shaolin priest hurried forward to steady the masked man.

"You need rest."

"No, we must go on. We're gaining on them. The wagon slows them down." He began to cough again, blood beginning to show on his handkerchief.

"You need your strength."

"And you know I'll cough never regain it."

"You will regain some of it. Enough to travel. Now come." The gentle Shaolin priest eased the weakened man down from the still horse to a grassy spot a few feet away. "I will make some tea."

The Lone Ranger reached up with an anxious hand grabbing the other man's wrist. "Do you think that we will catch up to them?"

"I believe so."

Caine soon had the ailing man comfortable near a small fire. The four horses, all descended from Silver, the ranger's original steed when he began his Lone Ranger vendetta, were taking up mouthfuls of mouthfuls of grass nearby while resting. Soon the ranger would be asleep and Caine would walk the horses down to a small stream for watering.

As a rule, Caine was not an advocate for revenge. But the ranger was terminally ill, and even more terminally determined. As a long-time friend, Caine took it upon himself to watch over the ranger.

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Time to test you television and movie knowledge.

What fictional scientific genius is known only be a letter of the alphabet? And what is that letter?

Who are the three new henchmen of Dr. Loveless?

Where did the song about Nellie and Willie running from a lake monster come from? (this one is tough)

Who is the singer of the song "The Mule and the Fool"?

Who is the man talking about his 'pappy'?

And now the answers …. Only because some of these may be a bit hard.

Q from the James Bond movies.

The Three Stooges – I couldn't help myself. I hadn't planned on it and I think the orb empowering explanation is as good as any as to why they have been seen in a lot of different time periods – including westerns – and never get injured or maimed by their antics.

This is rather hard as it refers to a episode on 'Little House on the Prairie' when Laura and some other pretend to be a lake monster similar to the Loch Ness monster only with a moose's head, in order to scare Nellie, Willie and their mother away.

The singer was Festus Haggen from Gunsmoke. He did a record of a number of songs to which I grew up to. Before he became an actor, Ken Curtis had been a singer and had even sung with the Tommy Dorsey's band.

Brett Maverick was constantly quoting his pappy while he moved from town to town gambling and drinking.

EXPLANATIONS

Now to explain about Antoinette. She had disappeared from the series so I had to come up with some explanation for it. But I have no explanation so you can either believe she left him after a disagreement or that she died. I was able to provide an explanation for Voltaire by sending him to receive training so that he would be a better fighter against James West.

Dr. Loveless is a mad genius that was a constant arch-rival of James West and Artemus Gordon. His depressions stems from a bipolar disorder, as well as learning that he was dying. He wants to repeat the experiment that made the Stooges invincible on himself but doesn't want to lose his mind, as he can't imagine anymore surviving that long while being that stupid. Plus, Antoinette is no longer with him.

I hadn't planned on using the Three Stooges. I had three henchmen in the room guarding Joe Cartwright and the others. In my notes I used henchmen over and over again so I tried coming up with another word to use instead and thought of stooge. Then I thought it was funny that there were three of them like in as the Three Stooges. Then I realized, why not. The orb would explain a lot of it.

Things to know about John Bly. He's a villain from the future as are the orbs. He had come back in time to use his knowledge to thrive as a villain but had been stopped by Brisco County, Jr. who once trapped the villain in an orb and on another he stabbed him with a rod from an orb which reduced Bly to dust. I figured it was only a matter of time before he came back.

Yes, Tonto is dead. And the Lone Ranger holds someone in the Briscoe County Jr. group responsible for his companion's death.

THE WILD, WILD WEST (1965-1969)

James T. West (Robert Conrad)

Artemus Gordon (Ross Martin)

Dr. Miguelito Loveless (Michael Dunn)

Antoinette (Phoebe Dorin)

Voltaire (Richard Kiel)

THE THREE STOOGES

Moe Howard

Curly Howard

Larry Fine

BONANZA (1959 - 1973)

Ben Cartwright – (Lorne Greene)

Joseph 'Little Joe' Cartwright – (Michael Landon)

Eric 'Hoss' Cartwright – (Dan Blocker)

LEGEND (1995)

Ernest Pratt a.k.a. Nicodemus Legend (Richard Dean Anderson)

Huitzilopochtli Ramos (Mark Adair-Rios)

Janos Bartok (John de Lancie)

THE ADVENTURES OF BRISCO COUNTY, JR. (1993 – 1994)

Brisco County, Jr. – (Bruce Campbell)

Lord Bowler – (James Lonefeather)

Socrates Poole – (Christian Clemenson)

John Bly – (Billy Drago)

Prof. Wickwire – (John Astin)

GUNSMOKE (1964 – 1975)

Festus Haggen (Ken Curtis)

MAVERICK (1957 – 1960)

Brett Maverick – (James Garner)

KUNG FU (1972-1975)

Kwai Chang Caine – (David Carradine)

THE LONE RANGER

TONTO

Too many actor to chose from


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Neelix led the way in his excitement. "It's right over here!"

The land was lush in area, especially near the obvious water sources, but there were also large patches that seemed to be covered by dry grass, cacti and tumbleweeds.

"Neelix! Wait up! We don't know what we could run into here!" From the time period and area that Q said they were going, Chakotay remembered from his history lessons that California had had the largest population of grizzly bears on the continent until they had been virtually wiped out.

He rushed through the dried brush to find the hard-breathing Talaxian standing on a large boulder pointing. Deciding not to reprimand him at this time, Chakotay climbed up the three-foot tall rock which had an almost flat top.

"See there! It's your ancestral people!"

Chakotay grimaced. Neelix didn't know that he was descended from Central American Indians. Most of his childhood on Dorvan V, his father had tried to get Chakotay to accept and embrace the more peaceful aspects of their heritage. He knew he had broken his father's heart when as a young teen he had left to join Starfleet, only to return later affiliated with the Marquis after Cardassia had taken over Dorvan V and killed almost everyone he had held dear.

"Those are not Native Americans. That's a Mexican village."

In the distance, near a small creek were a collection of small white walled buildings with little dark-haired children running, playing and doing chores. At the small creek, the women of the village could be seen washing clothes by beating the wet fabric against smooth rocks.

Neelix was perplexed. "But these people are indigenous to this area; why aren't they considered Native Americans, too?"

That caught the former Marquis officer off guard. "I'm not sure. It may be one of those generational terms that never make sense to later generations." He chose to change the subject before Neelix could confound him further. "Let's get back to La Forge and O'Brien and see what kind of sensor readings they were able to gather."

Before they could climb off the large boulder a man leading a horse with another man lying across the saddle came around some nearby tall brush as they followed an old path. The man's rifle was out and aimed at them before they could do anything.

"Er… We come in peace," suggested Neelix.

The man was tall and his face seemed worn by the weather and sun. A rough growth of whiskers grew on his face which seemed similar to the short needles of a cactus.

"You two aren't from around here," stated the man in a low, dry voice. "And strangers have been rather dangerous lately."

"You're an Indian," stated the man. "Fancily dress, but an Indian. Is that a tattoo?"

"Yes," Chakotay

"Never seen tattooing like that before. Never seen face paint like that before either," he said pointing to Neelix.

"I'm from a far off land," Neelix said, trying to be helpful.

"Overseas?" the man queried.

"Uh, yes, you could say that."

"Hawaii?"

Neelix looked to Chakotay for help.

"He's from a bit further than that," Chakotay answered.

A sound redirected their attention back down the trail the two Voyager shipmates had come down.

"Morn! Wait!"

The large Lurian stood their with a phaser rifle aimed at the man. The tall man stood there, unfamiliar with the projectile weapon and unsure of just how much danger he was in or what kind of person Morn was, and leaned over to spit tobacco juice onto the dry ground.

"Now we seem to have a situation here." His eyes were hard and his aim was steady at Neelix's chest." There are a couple of things that could happen here. One, we could fill each other full of holes."

"I'm rather opposed to that," Neelix said, matter of factly, with more than a little nervousness in his voice.

"The other option is that we try trusting each other and lower our weapons."

"That's the one I'm for!" pipped up the Talaxian.

Chakotay wanted to just stun the fellow and sort it all out latter but there was a good chance that it would result in Neelix getting shot in the chance. Before he could say anything, though, a young voice called out from behind the man's horse. "Pa?"

The nameless man with the rifle tensed. "Now is not a good time, Jethro."

"Pa, just-just tell me if cannibals are the ones with the pointy teeth!" The kid sounded desperate.

The man, Chakotay placed him in his fifties, raised an eyebrow. "Some, I believe."

A shrill cry rang out startling everyone. From behind the nervous horse two little kids, a boy and a girl, ran out to close ranks with their father. From behind them came Nog who held up his hands to show he meant no harm.

The man's eyes moved from Nog to Morn again, and then shot back to Neelix. "He's not a cannibal?" he said, indicating Nog with a glance.

"Commander!" Nog said, indignantly.

Chakotay held up a hand to still the young Ferengi's protest. "No, he's not."

"And I take it that guy," he glanced at Morn, "isn't a burn victim or a leper?"

Chakotay shook his head.

"And he's…" he waved the rifle in Neelix's direction. "He's not from some island past Hawaii, is he?"

"Where Neelix is from there is very little water."

"And you are here for…what exactly?"

The man wanted to talk instead of shoot. This was good. Chakotay wondered how much he should say. They could use someone who knew the area as well as other possible allies or threats. "There's some trouble coming this way and we came to help."

"Trouble?" The man lowered the rifle and Chokotay found that he had been holding his breath. "Well, that's a little different. I'm Rowdy Yates. These two youngin's of mine are Jethro and Maria." His kids were behind him peeking out at the strange characters, while the man reached back and pulled the stirrups of the horse causing the hoofed creature to turn and reveal it's burden to the others. "And this is my boss, Heath Barkley. He owns one of the big spreads around here." Laying across the saddle with legs on one side and head hanging over the other side was a bound broader man in his fifties, but was immediately apparent to everyone was that he had been infected by Borg nanites and was in the first stages of transformation into a drone. Second thing was that he was aware of them.

Morn was the first to react. He spat and stormed off, lashing out at the brush and small trees. The man's kids, who were evidently part Mexican or part Indian or both, gave up there shyness to poke at large purple phlegm ball with sticks where it lay in the dirt. They had evidently decided that there was no longer any need to worry if their father wasn't worried.

"What's wrong with Morn?" asked Neelix.

"Simple," Nog Dax said. "What one drone sees, they all see." Nog turned to Chokotay. "They know we are here."

123456789

Oct 31, 1938

Warbucks Warehouse

Berlin, Germany

The large metal door opened up with a horrendous creak. Into the light stepped an older man whose age seemed to have stopped. He was of Asian descent but was taller than his countrymen. He wore a red gown with gold trim which depicted a dragon flying in the wind. His appearance in the large underground room had caused the eight chained men to become silent.

"My apologies for not giving you my attentions sooner, but as you know I have a vast organization to maintain which requires me to study in detail the reports my spies send me. Otherwise you would have already known what it means to be a prisoner of Fu Manchu."

He slowly walked down the steps into the large room and was followed by four guards, dressed in black, carrying torches that they used as they hurried around the room to lite more torches, bringing illumination everywhere.

"Dr. Henry Jones, Jr."

"Indiana."

The infamous international crime lord found this amusing. "You have chosen to name yourself after a childhood pet. A dog. While I find your 'nickname' humorous, it is your archeological endeavors that I am impressed by. In case you have not informed your chained colleagues, you are currently in Germany to reclaim the 'Dagger of Ra', which you found in southern Egypt, but had it taken away by one of Hitler's many occultic collectors."

"And I would have had it again if your men hadn't gotten in my way!"

"That is most likely true," admitted the villain, as he took out the sheathed dagger out one of his pockets and held it up so that the flames of the torches sparkled off of the artifact's surface.

Jones pulled at his chains in frustration, but said nothing.

"Calm yourself, Dr. Jones. You will need your strength before this night is out." A low growling caught the fiendish mastermind's attention. "Ah, John Clayton, Lord Greystoke. Orphaned as a baby on the coast of west Africa, rumored to have been raised by apes, and known and feared throughout most of the African continent as Tarzan. Eventually he was reunited with his English countrymen when he was in his twenties when he regained his family heritage and married an American named Jane." He paused to regard the fantastic physique that strained at the chains to get at him. "No. Not even you can break those," he said. "Your British Empire requested you to come to Germany with the Belgian detective Hercule Poirot to verify rumors that Prof. Moriarty was alive and seeking to offer his services to the Nazis." He paused to put the Dagger of Ra away. "So that you do not find that your mission was a total blunder, I offer you my assurances that Prof. Moriarty is truly dead. The alliance being considered that you almost discovered was between myself and the Germans. And your efforts to let Poirot escape will only prove temporary, I assure you."

The robed man slowly walked before another man weighted down by chains. This man was in his mid-twenties and wore a black mask and a purple body suit.

"Ah, the latest incarnation of the legendary 'Ghost That Walks', the Phantom. Another jungle lord from the coast of Africa. Yes, I know why you are here as well. Somehow word of my activities in Germany reached the ears of that annoying detective Charlie Chan in Honolulu. It was he, being a family friend who knew your family's secret, who requested that you go to Germany to see what I was up to. I have faced your father, your grandfather and your great-grandfather. Your death will remove a constant thorn from my side."

"The remaining five men were all sent at the request of Mr. Hoover in Washington D.C., though contacted through Detective Dick Tracy."

"The showman Mandrake the Magician. A man, who everyone thinks is an illusionist or perhaps a real magician, however, I know your secret. You are an unparallel hypnotist. And your attempts to hypnotize my men will not work as they are under orders to not look in your direction. When not on stage practicing your trade you often like for mysteries to test your wits."

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage, sir," said the magician.

"And I plan to keep you that way." Fu Manchu walked next in front of a large Black man who was still straining at his chains. "Those chains could contain an elephant. Gentlemen, this is Lothar, perhaps the strongest man in the world. He is a prince of the Seven Nations and passed up a chance to become king in order to travel around the world with Mandrake."

A man in a flight outfit was next in line. "You're not going to get away with this!"

The notorious villain chuckled to himself. "I was wondering which of you Americans would say that to me. You have all met Cliff Secord, known in your newspapers as the Rocketeer. He's only been flying for a few months now so forgive him his enthusiasm. He's not used to going against the 'bad guys', as I believe you call us."

"And here we have the Green Hornet, otherwise known as Britt Reid, a newspaper publisher. Yes, a hero that stays close to news sources. Very wise. I'm sure more of your ilk will do that in upcoming years. If they have a chance. It is said he goes after villains that even the U.S. G-men can't touch. This time I believe you will have found that you have overextended your reach."

"And Kato. A Korean sidekick and probably the reason the Hornet has lived as long as he has. Many of the Westerners underestimate the fighting skills of those studied in the martial arts. I'm sure that this one has been a real asset to you, Mr. Reid."

He stepped back in order to regard them all. "If they are sending the costumed heroes of America against me, I'm surprised that they did not send the Shadow, the Spirit, or the Spider. But that does not matter. In the end you all would have been caught anyway. Mandrake's hypnotism was effective in making the German people perceive Lothar and Kato as Aryan men, but hypnotism has long been an Eastern art, and such masterful skill as Mandrake's drew my attentions to you like a moth to a flame."

In the distance, the slight sound of thunder could be heard.

"My time with you will regrettably be short, but I will not keep you in suspense. I do not plan to kill you. I do not even plan to torture you."

"So you are just going to let us go?" Jones asked, in disbelief.

"In a manner of speaking." He smiled and turned his back to them. "Tell me, have any of you read 'John Carter's Martian Chronicles'?"

"It's an apocryphal writing. A science-fiction novel. Like H.G. Welles' 'Time Machine'" stated Indiana.

Fu Manchu shook his head. "Do not be so quick to accept the accounts of H.G. Welles time travel accounts as fictional, Dr. Jones, not that of John Carter." He smiled wickedly with secret knowledge. "Allow me to relay a story. A man claiming to be John Carter, recently returned to Mars, was attempting to warn congressmen at the capitol of the United States of an invasion force that had landed on Mars, and which was now on its way to Earth. He was of course declared a mad man, apprehended and institutionalized into one of America's many institutions for the insane."

The thunder sounded louder and small particles of dust trickled down from the ceiling. "Are those explosions?" Lothar asked.

"I will answer your questions in due time – if there is time – but for now let us return to the alleged John Carter. Now I would normally disregard a story like this as the ramblings of a mad man, but I had been studying Mars of late when I noticed what I though might be volcanic explosions occurring on it's surface. Frequent observations, however, led me to note objects progressing toward the Earth from Mars."

"Where are you going with all of this?" spoke up the Phantom.

"Last night a number of large objects, considered by most to be meteorites crashed in various places all over the world."

"You're saying that we're being attacked by invaders from Mars," said Mandrake.

"There is a saying among your people. 'Seeing is believing'. Let me show you a device I have been working on. It is like a radio but it receives pictures as well as sound."

At a flick of his finger his men hurriedly moved over a large, heavy device with a glass screen on it five feet tall and six feet wide.

"We've heard of television before," said the young Rocketeer.

"It is a new invention but I have made a few improvements." With a nod one of his servants turned the large device on. At first the heroes were startled by the color and clarity of the picture followed quickly by the even more startling images. Large dark vessels stood on long elongated tripod supports causing it to tower over the debris of smoldering wreckage.

"What is this? Now you show us your latest weapon of mass destruction!" Kato fumed.

With a gesture, Fu Manchu stopped one of his servants from attacking the young hothead. "Evidently you have not been listening to me. If this device you see on the screen were in my possession I would proudly proclaim it as mine. But it is not and it is only one of many that now trod upon the Earth."

"Why do you tell us these things?" demanded Tarzan, his eyes smoldering.

"Ah, trust the savage to cut to the heart of the matter." He bowed ever so slightly to the English lord. He held up a large metal key in his hand that moments before had been empty. "This key will unlock your manacles and I will give it to you before I leave. I do not do this out of respect for you adventuring interlopers, but because it aids me in my plans. I tell you this because I know you see yourselves as heroes, and that this will be the death of you."

"Upon gaining your freedom, your group will attack these invaders from outer space, because you will feel the need to save the innocents around you. You will most likely find a way to destroy some of the infernal machines but they will ultimately be your demise. I, not caring of the multitudes that will be killed, will sequester myself away and study the fiends with no faces and their technology. And I will be the one that will triumph over them in the end. And I will have you know that as you fight against these beings from another planet that all your efforts will just be making it easier for me to become master of the world!" He began to laugh which echoed throughout the large room.

"Anyone else notice how much he resembles that Ming the Merciless character in the Flash Gordon comic strips?" asked Indiana.

Cliff started to chuckle, but quickly stopped when he noticed that the others weren't joining in. Fu Manchu was not amused. But instead of retaliating, the evil crime lord carefully hung the key on a nail on the wall between Indiana Jones and Tarzan. "I trust this will be easy enough for you to free yourselves. The walls of these building are slightly better constructed than others in this area. It was made and used by the American Industrialist Oliver Warbucks in an effort to stimulate economic life into the society. Warbucks soon realized that the Nazi movement was not going to conduct itself in the civilized manner he was used to dealing with and that it was only going to get worse before it got better. He managed to relocate many of the employees, Germans and Jews, that had worked here, along with their families, to the United States and Canada."

He turned to regard the image of the space ship as it destroyed another building using light energy. A scorched Nazi flag fluttered into the burning rubble. "Germany was soon going to be at war with much of the world, but even it was not prepared for this type of detestation."

"Who could be?" commented the Phantom.

The oriental mastermind turned his head to them. "I could." With a flap of his cloak, the man who would rule the world turned and left. His servants quickly pulled out various weapons and tools used by the heroes, including Cliff's rocket pack, and left them near the steps by the door as they exited.

Indiana and Tarzan both strained to reach the key but neither could get more than a foot from it. A nearby building crashing in on itself temporarily covered the sound of nearby metal grinding on metal.

"Too late! Their here!" shouted the Rocketeer.

"No!" Kato said. "The sound is different!"

As they watched a British telephone box came into existence where Fu Manchu once stood. Before anyone could say anything the doors to the TARDIS banged open and a brown, curly haired man looked out at them. "Hello!" He stepped out and regarded them for a second. "I'm the Doctor. I was hoping we could mutually aid each other."

12345668789789

Early 21st Century

Los Angeles, California

"Are you really going to eat that?" The question came from the backseat.

"Of course I am. You saw me order it," came the answer from the front passenger seat. Normally George wouldn't eat in front of anyone who was not familiar with his kind of eating habits, but it had been a long day and he had already missed lunch. "I'm not going to throw away perfectly good food just because it makes you queasy."

"I'm not asking you to throw it away. I just can't believe you're actually going to eat it."

George's partner, Det. Matthew Sikes, glanced back from the driver's seat. "Gopher lungs and kidneys on a bun are pretty mild for him. I'm surprised you haven't seen any of the 'Newcomer' documentaries up in Chicago."

Constable Benton Fraser, dressed in his Canadian Mountie uniform, leaned forward from where he sat behind the driver's seat. "Actually Chicago has a good number of both fan clubs as well as hate groups focused on the Tenctonese people. It is a very common topic there up for much debate since a small group immigrated there."

"It's a hot topic everywhere," commented George.

Tenctonese society was designed so that a small caste ruled over a slave population. George and his family were part of the slave community that had been slaves aboard a massive space faring vessel on long star trek to a brave, new world they were to repopulate. The slaves led a revolt and changed the coordinates, being fortunate enough to stumble across Earth and landed in the California desert. The 'Newcomers' to Earth underwent an extensive quarantine process before attempts were made to integrate the alien refuges into the general public.

Though intensely curious of the Newcomers – as they had been called – once they were being introduced into the general public a new concern rose it's ugly head. Though they were fewer in number, the Newcomers were stronger, smarter and had a longer longevity than Humans by about three or four times. Californians, already losing a large part of the job market to illegal aliens coming into the country from Mexico, were not at all happy with a new type of 'alien' that could far surpass them at everything with a little education.

While many people were warring the pros and cons of the Tenctonese in their midst, those that were undecided were sometimes being enticed by considering the Newcomers as exotic. Many of the Tenctonese females, needing an income to survive in this new society, turned to prostitution. Concerning other vices someone with a scientific background discovered a way to use Newcomer hormones as a new exotic street drug. It was when Canadian Constable Benton Fraser and his unofficial partner Det. Stanley Raymond Kowalski discovered this new exotic street drug being sold in Chicago when Fraser's wolf, Diefenbaker, attacked a hot dog vender in the park that was distributing the illegal substance. Evidence – and a few veiled threats – revealed a drug-trafficking gang running the drug-hormones up from L.A. and dispense them to Chicago, Minneapolis, New York and Toronto, Canada.

Because other K-9 drug-sniffing dogs had not been trained to locate this new drug, Kowalski, Fraser and Diefenbaker were allowed to travel to California and team up with Det. Matthew Sikes and his Newcomer partner, Det. George Francisco. After three days, the four men and one deaf wolf had been in the middle of arresting fifteen Tenctonese teenagers that were part of the muscle of the drug gang when a spandexed appareled man flashed into appearance. Some of the youths tried to take the man hostage only to be turned into living animated two-dimensional cardboard cutouts of themselves.

Q's arrival had been advantageous and the three detectives and one constable took quick advantage of it. Five hours later, the gang being booked and the drug-hormones impounded and being studied, and the prisoners that provided the hormones were receiving medical treatment. Meanwhile they were all trying to not think about what the man named Q had told them, except for Diefenbaker who was deaf and much more interested in George's sandwich.

Diefenbaker leaned over to get a better look at the sandwich in George's hand.

"Better watch out, George," Sikes said after feeling the canine's warm breath on his arm. "The dog's considering your sandwich."

Fraser pulled Diefenbaker head around to face him. "That is George's sandwich. It is not for you," he said clearly and precisely. "We will get you something to eat as soon as we get to the hotel."

Sikes glanced back. "You think that he'll obey you better if you face him?"

"No," Fraser said, matter of factly. "But I had to get his attention first. He reads lips."

"He's deaf?"

"Yes, and he's a wolf. Not a dog."

Sikes threw up an exasperated wave up into the evening sky. "Now I've literally heard it all! A gang selling alien hormones as drugs. A deaf wolf that reads lips and lives in the city. And a teleporting guy that wants us to another world to save it from some cybernetic virus people."

A flash of bright light brought Q into existence in the seat between Fraser and Kowalski. Diefenbaker was so disturbed by the abrupt appearance that he jumped into the front passenger seat causing the remaining half of George's sandwich to fall apart all over his lap.

"Well? Have you made your decision yet?" Q said, sounding quite perturbed.

Sikes cursed as he managed to keep the car on the road. "Jeez! Are you related to that Twilight Zone guy – Rod Sterling?" shouted Kowalski.

Q was nonplus. "I need an answer."

"Why us?" asked George. "Not that we aren't good at what we do, but what you are asking us to do is…well, is like nothing we have ever done before."

Q, sitting between Kowalski and Fraser, sighed. "Not my choice. I had a group of super-powered mutants I wanted to enlist, but Q, a different Q, said it would have been too easy that way. So he sent me to you instead."

"So we are this other Q being's choice," Fraser said. "But you still had to recruit us."

"Uh, Constable Fraser?" George spoke from the front seat. "Your animal." Diefenbaker was taking quick advantage of his new location and was snapping up all the spilled contents of George's sandwich. A flash of light revealed George to be no longer covered by various organ bits. Diefenbaker jerked his head back from where he had been nuzzling between the detective's legs for a fallen kidney, and cocked his head in confusion, whining.

"Um." Sikes was the first to try speak. "What did you just do?"

"I've filled your stomachs with all the nutrients that your bodies require, including fiber. Now that your minds won't be on food we can focus on my problem."

"You did what?" Kowalski shouted, patting down his stomach.

Sikes snapped on his blinker and moved to park, illegally cutting off another driver but he didn't care.

"It wasn't that bad," Fraser said, trying to keep the peace.

"The hell it isn't!" snapped Kowalski. "I feel violated!"

"Please, Ray-"

"No, I'm with Kowalski on this," Sikes said. Both men were very perturbed.

"You were going to put food in your stomachs anyway," Q said, frustrated at having to deal with every frustrating nuance of these lesser beings lives.

"Wait," George said. "Let's focus on why he's here. We now know why we were chosen – more or less. Do we accept? Or not?"

Sikes and Kowalski glanced at each other.

"George, give the man your notebook."

"Notebook?"

The Tenctonese Los Angeles police officer handed back a black notebook that seemed almost new. "The first twenty-seven pages outline my main request. The rest of the notebook are secondary requests if you are unable to comply with-"

"You want me to make a world-gate to a hospitable but uninhabited Earth for your people to colonize." Q hadn't opened the notebook, but had automatically known its contents.

"It wouldn't have to be permanently open." Instead of being frightened or angry by Q's behavior, George was encouraged by the power Q demonstrated. "It just needs to be open long enough to transport my people."

"And you also want the names and locations of the Overlords who abused their power over you."

"If you can."

"I already know who they are!" Q fumed. He felt abused having to submit to these tasks for these lesser beings. Especially beings who demand so much but do not have the promise of being very effective. "Very well. But if I do this large thing, then the others do not get their wishes.

"You can do it? I mean you will?"

"Yes."

The four men looked at each other. It was time to make a decision.

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AUTHOR'S NOTES

Yea! I'm going to post again! I love posting! It's better than writing because then I can look for the fan reviews.

Now let me tell you about the characters I've used here and various other things. I feel I should do this because I'm pulling them in from everywhere with little to no explanation. Plus, many of the western TV shows are older and thus not as familiar to most people.

I chose California for the Borg invasion because more western elements connect there. Some I had to find a way to bring together but it sure helped to have some there already. I thought about using Dodge City or Tombstone but I just didn't have enough information on them. In the San Joaquin Valley of California lies the city of Stockton, which also the fictional home of the characters from the television western 'BIG VALLEY' (1965 – 1969). As I have decided to push further into the shows future, I have Heath Barkley (Lee Majors) as running most of the things for the Barkley clan, but since I didn't watch the show much Heath is already a Borg drone by the time we meet him. I thought Rowdy Yates (Clint Eastwood) from RAWHIDE (1959 – 1966) would also make a good candidate for my story. After years of running herd on cattle I can see him trying his hand at bounty hunting while traveling around, and then finally meeting the right woman and settling down, so why not in Stockton, CA and working for the Barkleys. A long stretch but that's what I'm working with so try to accept it at least for this story.

For my crossover into the late 1930's, well, I'd actually planned to write a Borg invasion there but I really needed to shorten this series because its gone on for years now. I chose October 31st, 1938 because it was just the day prior that Orson Welles did his radio play on 'THE WAR OF THE WORLDS'. It's just a week and a half later on Nov. 9th in Germany that the Holocaust begins with Nazi troops and sympathizers looting and burning Jewish businesses (the all night affair saw 7,500 Jewish businesses destroyed, 267 synagogues burned, 91 Jews killed, and at least 25,000 Jewish men arrested).

So now let's look at the characters.

Fu Manchu – great villain. Every story needs a great villain and he was famous not only as an international criminal mastermind but also as the most fiendish man on the planet.

The heroes : Indiana Jones, Tarzan, The Phantom, Green Hornet, Kato, Mandrake the magician, Lothar and the Rocketeer. I believe most of us all know them. If you feel you are unfamiliar with them, well, they are quite easy to learn about on the Internet. I still have to decide which 4 heroes to take with the Doctor to Stockton, California to fight the Borg, because of course they will agree to join when the Doctor says that by agreeing Q can be forced to stop the alien invaders. Any ideas as to which 4?

I mentioned a number of other characters from the 1930's to try give readers a better feel for the era. I hope you found it interesting as well as entertaining. I would have included Doc Savage but the people that own the copyrights are against any fanfiction. Guess they don't like free advertising.

Mentioned characters: 'Daddy' Warbucks, Hercule Poirot, Prof. Moriarty, Charlie Chan, Dick Tracy, John Carter, H.G. Welles & Time Machine, Ming the Merciless and Flash Gordon.

I'd always wanted to use the characters from DUE SOUTH (1994 – 1999) and I managed to get them in here. I had originally planed to use Det. George Francisco children as part of the group to face the Borg but I feel Fraser and Kowalski can bring a more interesting element to the mix. Can anyone guess why I chose ALIEN NATION (1989 – 1990) as one of my main focus points?

Det. Matthew Sikes was played by Gary Graham. Graham also played Tanis on an episode of STAR TREK: VOYAGER in 1996 and later Vulcan Ambassador Soval in ENTERPRISE.

Det. George Francisco was played by Eric Pierpoint, who is even more affiliated with Star Trek. He also played Voval in the STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION episode 'Liaisons'. On STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE he played Captain Sanders in the episode 'For The Uniform'. He was Kortar on the episode 'Barge Of The Dead' on STAR TREK: VOYAGER. It is on ENTERPRISE that he returned for 5 episodes as Harris.

Hope you liked it. I have some studying to do now. I'll try to post when I can but it's hard while in school and working full time.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**SPRING 1896**

**SAN JOAQUIN VALLEY**

**CALIFORNIA**

"Through here," directed the man with the gun.

Chief Miles O'Brien and Lt. Commander La Forge pushed through the brush with their arms raised.

In a clearing on the other side was a skinny scraggly-bearded man singing about his love letters being rejected by his cheating sweetheart.

"_Now yew can't be my darlin'_

_Cause ya think yer smart, _

_Ya tried out ever trick ya knew, _

_That'd break my heart._

_But I don't care or give a hoot_

'_Bout the things ya do._

_Cause, if ya think that I'll come back,_

_Well, I still got news fer yew._

_Phooey on yew, little darlin'_

_Ya can't make a monkey outta me_

_If ya could ya would do it_

_But the good Lord beat cha to it_

_So phooey on yew little darlin'_

_Now go on back to mamma,_

_Cryin' like a kid._

_Lie ta her an talk about _

_The awful things I did._

_Tell her that I broke yer heart_

_An yew was always true, _

_But if ya think that I'll come back_

_Well I still got news fer yew._

_Phooey! On yew little darlin'_

_I've found me another gal yew see_

_She's got rosy jaws an red hair_

_An squeezes like a she bear_

_So Phooey on yew little darlin'_

_Phooey! On yew little Darlin'_

_Phooey_!"

The song abruptly ended when another man cooking two rabbits and some type of bird over a fire stood up and pointed. "What are they?" asked Hoss Cartwright, pointing to the two captives. "Circus performers?"

"Not circus performers," answered Artemus Gordon. He was wearing a black suit and regretting it as the heat of the day made itself felt in the last hours of the day. Sitting in the shade of a thin tree, he mopped at his brow with a damp handkerchief while considering the situation. "Unless I'm gravelly mistaken, Jim here has just found two of Loveless' men."

"You sure of that?" Brett Maverick asked off hand as he shuffled a deck of cards and huddled in the same tree shade that Gordon did.

Jim West spoke up next. "Artie, take a look at the black man's eyes."

Gordon gave his partner a ponderous look but got up and came over to examine the eyes of one of the two men that Jim had brought in from his scouting trip.

The metallic irises that had replaced Geordi's old VISOR was obvious under close inspection.

"Dear Lord! It must be the work of Dr. Loveless!"

"How many times do we have to tell you that we don't know anyone by that name?" shouted Miles O'Brien.

"Then explain his eyes," insisted West.

"We can't!" exclaimed Geordi. "You wouldn't understand. But we have never met or even heard of this Loveless person!"

"I'm inclined to believe them," said retired Sherriff's deputy Festus Haggen. "They don't look the type ta hang out with the likes of a varmit like Loveless."

Brett nodded in agreement. "As my pappy used to say 'The skunk that sprayed your dog may not be the same skunk that sprayed you'." Everyone stopped to try figure that bit of wisdom out but Hoss had had enough.

"No! They gotta know where Loveless' hideout is! They may be our last chance to get Little Joe back." Hoss charged forward and grabbed a startled Geordi in a bear hug and began to squeeze hard. "Talk! Talk or I'll break your back!"

Geordi was unable to speak or even breath for that matter, but fortunately O'Brien wasn't under such a restriction. "Stop! We really don't know who you are talking about! We're innocent!"

"Let him go, Hoss," Gordon said to the large man.

"No! Not until he-"

THUNK

Hoss fell backwards onto the ground, stunned mostly. Geordi almost fell but O'Brien hurried forward and caught him and eased him down to the ground. Maverick, who had hit Hoss with the butt of his revolver, wiped his weapon apologetically before putting it away. "I believe them," was all he said in explanation for his deed.

West considered this. "Evidence to the contrary, I think I do too." He stepped over to his horse and grabbed a canteen of water, and then tossed it to O'Brien, who had been watching him. "If you aren't part of Loveless' crew then how about telling us what you are doing out here?"

O'Brien poured some of the water passed La Forge's lips who coughed slightly. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me," said West. "I might surprise you."

12344564765

85895989

NEAR STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA

Brisco County Jr. studied the ground. "Pretty rocky around here," he said. "Which way do you think Bowler went, Comet?"

Comet, Brisco's horse, shook his head, and then nodded to the right.

"That way? Okay, then let's go."

Comet stood still, his ears twitching in alarm.

Brisco leaned close to his horse's head. "What's wrong, boy?" He didn't see anything but knew from experience to trust his horse's senses. Some people said it was the only sense that Brisco had.

Comet took a step back and then another. A grinding sound began to fill the air. Slowly a large, blue box almost seven feet tall and about three feet wide came into existence twenty feet away next to a large cactus with a large owl perched on the opening of a hole in it's side. The startled bird took to wing and left into the hot air but not leaving a large white dropping on the side of the blue rectangular box.

"What in the world?!?" Briscoe pulled out his gun from it's holster, but didn't aim it yet. For all he knew this could be one of his friends, Prof. Albert Wickwire, who was a rather eccentric scientist who had come up with some rather bizarre contraptions. But the other mad scientist in the area was Dr. Loveless and it paid to be careful so he cocked his gun just in case.

Comet pawed restlessly at the dry ground, and Brisco patted his neck to calm him. "Easy, Comet. We've seen stranger things than this. Let's see what they want." He naturally assumed someone was inside the box. He also assumed that whoever was inside would come outside and introduce themselves. He just hoped they were friendly.

The door to the TARDIS opened and a young boy hurried out followed by a very curly haired man in a long coat with an even longer multi-colored scarf wrapped around his neck and wearing a fedora hat. The man didn't seem to take notice of how hot it was but seemed very intent on his surroundings.

Another man stepped out wearing a similar hat but sporting a very obvious revolver and a whip. The man looked rugged but intelligent at the same time, but he didn't look the killer type.

A third man stepped out of the TARDIS, who was very large and muscular. He had a large knife held firmly in his right hand and, to Briscoe's amazement, seemed to be smelling the air with great interest. Something about the man made Brisco know that this was not a man he wanted to contend with by any means. This man was well beyond Briscoe's realm of experience.

To his amazement, a fourth man in green strode casually out of the large blue box. He wore a green hat with a black mask over his eyes. The green suit the man wore seemed worn to some extent but expensive. And it looked like he wore shoulder holster for a gun under his suit.

To defy reason a fifth man appeared from the blue box followed by what looked like a metal facsimile of a small dog on wheels. How all those people had been able to pack into that box was more than he could comprehend. The fifth man was of some oriental descent but Brisco couldn't narrow it down from this distance. The man may have been smaller than the other adults but he had an assurance and grace in his walk that only the large man equaled. Both were dangerously skilled fighters. As he looked around, County could see that he also wore a black mask similar in design to that of the man in green.

"Ah, a local," said the man with the long scarf. He quickly walked over towards Comet and Briscoe, ignoring the revolver that Briscoe held in his hand. Comet backed up a step causing Briscoe to brace himself. "Pardon our intrusion," said the man with the toothy smile, "but have you noticed a cybernetic infestation occurring anywhere nearby?"

"A what?"

"He's not going to understand you, Doctor," said the boy. "Let me try."

"Very well, Kenny," answered the Doctor, who seemed slightly amused.

"Hey mister, where's the closest town or city around here? Or anyplace that where you can get a large supply of metals and other resources?"

He was a little amused at having the child – probably about eleven or twelve – asking him the questions. It helped him feel more relaxed around these people, too, but he chose not to put away his gun just yet. "Well, Stockton, I guess."

"And just where is this Stockton?" interjected the Doctor.

"Should be just over that hill over there," Brisco said, nodding to the south.

The Doctor turned to see two of his new companions, the masked oriental and the large, muscular man racing up the steep hill in some form of unspoken competition. Although the small man scrambled up in a manner and speed Briscoe had never imagined possible before, the larger man was in the lead due to the incredible leaps and finding handholds that didn't seem possible. "What is he? Some kind of spider-man?" Brisco said incredulously.

"No. He's an ape-man."

At the top the two stood transfixed by the site of something on the other side.

"Well?" shouted the Doctor.

"I think you should see this," said the oriental man. "And tell us if this is normal for this time and place."

"We'll be right up, Kato," answered the man in green.

The Doctor, Kenny and the other two men began climbing up the rocky incline, but took their time for safety reasons. Briscoe seeing an easier incline he holstered his gun and spurred Comet around to the east and arrived at the top just as the others did, and dismounted. The others looked hot and out of breath except for the Doctor. Even bundled up like he was he didn't seem at all bothered by the hot weather or the exertion of the climb. This man bore some looking into.

The city of Stockton consisted of a couple dozen two or three story buildings all made of wood except two or three buildings made of brick here and there. What was most unusual was that a few buildings were in charred ruins and very little activity could be of the city's populace. Another unique item was that near the hills on the far side of the city stood a metal framework for a building that must have been ten stories tall and just as wide.

"Well, that's something that you don't see every day," Briscoe said.

He took out his collapsible telescope to have a closer look but almost immediately wished he hadn't.

"Let me see," said the time lord as he took the eyepiece from Briscoe's loose fingers. After a moment the Doctor made an exclamation. "Ah, they have a new drone. They're just amputating her right arm and are now attaching-"

"Who are you people?" demanded Briscoe, his hand resting on his holstered weapon. That anyone could see such a sight and talk about it so casually about it. He felt sick.

The masked man in green turned to him. "We've come to save this world."

"World? Wha-" He stopped and looked back at the TARDIS. "Is that thing some kind of time machine?"

"You've encountered time travelers before?" asked the man with the whip.

Brisco colored slightly. "Well, yes, there was a lady from the future, but she didn't wear any clothes."

The Doctor adjusted his scarf around his neck. "Well, I'm not that kind of time traveler."

1245234537756788

Author's notes:

Sorry it's short. Don't have much time to write while in school mode. Hope everybody likes it.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

DR. LOVELESS' LAIR

"Stop playing with that horse and hook him up to the wagon already!" called out a harsh voice.

"I'm trying!" Curly answered in an exasperated tone. "It's this horse! It ain't cooperating!" As if to demonstrate, the rotund man tried leading the large, light brown horse by tugging on the right side of its harness making the beast to walk in a circle. "Maybe it's defective?"

"You numbskull!" Moe shouted. Moe stormed over from where he had just harnessed one of the other horses to the wooden wagon they were taking. "You're the one that's defective!" he said, taking the reins of the horse. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two."

"Right." Moe then jabbed his two fingers into his chum's eyes.

"Owwwww!" Curly slapped his hands over his eyes in pain, and then after a moment peered through his fingers in anger. "Why you…"

Moe gave him a hard look. "Why me what?"

Curly, being intimidated and realizing that anything that he did would only make Moe madder at him, backed down. "Why nothin'." He chuckled nervously as he backed away from Moe and the horse, then at a safe distance turned to bark at him while still backing away, thus tripping and falling into a full trough of water meant for the horses. Both Moe and the horse laughed while Curly, now sopping wet, struggled to get out of the water trough.

"Hey! Cut that out!" This time the commanding voice came from Joe Cartwright who was standing up on the wagon securing a tarp over two large round objects. "We don't have time to waste! Get that horse hooked up to the wagon!" Behind him he could hear the third stooge's muffled laughter at his comrades antics. "And Larry, I told you three times already. We want the small barrel of oats. Not these nails." Joe pushed the barrel back toward the red-haired man who looked confused.

"Sorry. I was distracted and the barrels are right nex-"

Joe held up a hand to cut him off. "If we are going to get out of here before Dr. Loveless figures out what we are doing, we have to do it sooner than later. Now horses don't run very well on nails, do they?"

Larry shook his head.

"Then go get the oats." Joe held back a sigh as the crazy-haired redhead turned to comply. "Larry?

"Yes?"

"Take the nails back as well."

"Oh, right."

Trying to escape with these pudding heads was almost enough for him to wish to go back to the cell Dr. Loveless had kept him in for months.

"We're back!" came out a call, which startled Joe so much he almost drew his gun.

"Where did you go? We could have left already if you three had been here to help prepare."

Isabeau stuck out her lip, which really did make Joe feel bad. It had been Isabeau that had convinced Dr. Loveless' henchmen to free the prisoners and leave while he was distracted with the rebellious Bly. When Loveless had almost killed Joe in cold blood, it had been enough for Isabeau. She had had to put up with a lot since coming to Loveless' lair but she was not about to be a party to murder.

"It was my fault really, Mr. Cartwright," answered Janos Bartok. "After we had retained the two golden orbs and brought them here I had had a most enlightening thought which I shared with Ms. Isabeau."

"And I agreed," she answered happily.

"To what?" Joe was feeling more and more nervous by the minute. He just wanted to leave already.

"Why to his notes and research, of course," Janos answered.

"Got them right here," Janos' assistant and fellow cellmate, Huitzilopochtli Ramos, said. He was pushing a wooden wheelbarrow stacked with stacks of papers tied together with twine.

"What's all this?"

Looking smug, Janos lifted up one of the stacks of papers that Huitzilopochtli was piling into the wagon. "These, my friend, are the research notes of Dr. Loveless. Some on our orbs and some on other things he was examining. All priceless to the scientific community."

Joe couldn't have cared less. "Just get it on there and be prepared to ride. We are leaving in two minutes. With or without the notes."

213453456354675889879

THE VILLAGE

Leaving the interior of the small adobe home, Neelix stepped out into the sun shaking his head.

"Is everything okay, Mr. Neelix?"

The Talaxian squinted as his eyes adjusted. The sun would be setting soon but right now it was shining right into his face. "Uh?" He'd met so many people in the small village that they had come to that he couldn't place the voice for a moment.

"It's Constable Fraser and Det. Kowalski."

"Ah yes," Neelix said, in his cheery tone. "You're the recruits that Q dropped off. What do you think of the village?"

"Pretty primitive," Stanley said. He was watching all the older women of the village doing everyday chores a few houses down from them while suspiciously eyeballing the strangers. "Though some things seem to be the same." A young woman in a house just past the older ladies peeked out of her window and smiled flirtatiously with Stanley. One of the old women, noticing the exchange, picked up her broom and began shaking it at the young woman until she retreated from the window. "Nope," Stanley said. "Things haven't changed at all."

"So what was troubling you?" Fraser said, keeping his eye on Diefenbaker, who was sniffing at some young chickens.

"It's young Nog back in there. He's using a device to safely remove all the Borg nano-probes while repairing the damage of poor Mr. Barkley."

"Nog?" Stanley scrunched his eyebrows in thought. "Is he the short guy, large ears and has a smart tapeworm in his chest?" The new arrivals brought by Q had all received a quick greeting from their Starfleet allies in this campaign along with short synopsis about them.

"I believe," said Benton, running interference for his friend's obtuse behavior, "that what we were told was that the Dax symbiont is a parasitic organism that resides within Nog. What the Dax symbiont provides to Nog is all the memories, emotions and skills of Dax's previous hosts."

Stanley shivered. "Creepy. Sounds more like horror than sci-fi to me."

"I don't know," commented Neelix. "It all sounds rather fascinating to me. The problem that Nog is undergoing is that if his personality is not strong enough, he could be overwhelmed by the memories and emotions of the Dax symbiont. Especially since these memories are all from a different alien species with a very different culture and standards."

"Told you it sounded like horror."

Neelix ignored Stanley and focused his attention on the Canadian constable. "Just think of all the perceptions you could experience: liberal, conservative, wealthy, working class, law official, criminal, male, female, father, mother-"

"Mother?" Stanley was unnerved. "I don't want to experience what it's like to give birth! Or know what it's like to be female for that matter!" Stanley noted Fraser giving him a disapproving eye. "What? I'm just secure in my manhood. That's all."

"Oh dear," Neelix said. "That's pretty much what Morn said."

"Morn. That's that big lump of a guy with the overly dour look, right?" Stanley looked a little bewildered. It had been a very strange day for him.

"What exactly was it that Nog said that caused Morn to react," Fraser inquired, in his most diplomatic manner.

Neelix pursed his lips. "Just that looking back through Jadzia's memories, that was one of the prior hosts for Dax, that he could now see how all the females on Deep Space Nine found Morn so attractive. Evidently that was when he still had his hair."

"Er." Stanley didn't know what to say to that. He had no clue as to what was traditional, taboo and/or in vogue for an alien culture that he hadn't known existed two hours ago. And for that matter he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"It sounds like a very unique situation," Fraser said, tactfully. "Not many people get a chance to immerse themselves in a altogether foreign culture."

"That's true," Neelix agreed. "But you know, I did have a somewhat similar experience." Kowalski had the look of dread on his face, but Fraser looked interested to hear more. "A friend of mine, Mr. Tuvok, and I were involved in a transporter mishap were our entire beings merged into one entity. A fellow who named himself Tuvix. He had all of our combined memories and lived among our starship's crew doing various duties for about two weeks be-"

"Waitaminute!" Stanley held up a finger for pause. "This transporter thing. Is this some kind of teleport machine?"

"Um, yes, I believe you can use that terminology to describe the transporters."

"Man, don't you future types learn anything? We've had movies telling us about accidents involving teleporting or," he used two fingers from each hand to hyphenate his next word, "'transporting', as you call it, since the 50's. The 1950's, that is. Neelix looked nonplus, but Stanley continued. "Man, my history teacher, Mr. Walters, was right. If you don't learn from history, you're doomed to repeat it."

A barking down the street drew their attention. "That's Diefenbaker!" Fraser said as he took off down the beaten dirt street.

"Is something wrong, Constable Fraser?" Neelix asked as he and Stanley followed close behind the Mountie toward the canine disturbance.

"Probably nothing," Benton said, as he quickened his strides.

Up ahead a group of local children, including the two children of Rowdy Yates, could be seen circling around the bulbous-headed Tenctonese, Det. George Francisco, who was working on something at a small wooden cart while trying, with little success, to shoo the huge husky/wolf hybrid, Diefenbaker, away.

"Maybe we don't want to see this," Stanley said, slowing his pace.

"Why?" asked the Talaxian.

"Because it looks like George is making himself another meal. His previous one had been disturbed."

"Really?" Neelix became excited. "I quite a chef myself. I've learned a number of alien dishes. Some of which are palatable to Humans, too. I wonder what Tenctonese cooking is like?"

Fraser reached for Diefenbaker but the canny canine kept jumping about just out of reach while still trying to run in and snap at what George was struggling with.

George held up the gutted carcass of a gopher. "You want it! Go get it!" He then threw dead varmint with his considerable Tenctonese strength like a football 120 yards away. Diefenbaker needed little encouragement and took after it. George, no longer bothered by the creature, began washing the harvested organs in a large wooden bowl of water, while he explained everything he was doing to the interested wide-eyed children. Nearby was a loaf of bread sliced open.

"He threw away the food he was going to eat?"

"Not quite. You see, Tenctonese eat organs," clarified Kowalski. "Raw."

"Ah… well…" Neelix sputtered a little while trying to not let that fact bother him too much. "I'm sure they, uh, probably use some type of herbs and minerals for seasoning."

"Yeah, but no salt. Salt can be deadly to them."

"Really? But I thought I was told that a colony of Tenctonese live in Los Angeles. That's right next to a ocean with a high concentration of salt, if I'm not mistaken. Wouldn't that be deadly to them?"

The detective nodded. "I don't understand it either. Maybe some alien species just like to live dangerously."

"Hmmm," thought Neelix. "Sounds like the Klingons."

"The what?"

The stoic figure of Rowdy Yates stepped out from the shadowy interior of a nearby adobe building. "If you are done seeing the sites, we're about to get this sessions going." He paused, as he looked down the road. "But perhaps we should wait a little longer." He called back behind him, "We have company comin'."

Neelix and the others looked too. The little old ladies, sensing something amiss, dropped the projects they were working on and began rounding up their children and grandchildren to bring them inside and away from any more surprises in cause they turned out to be lethal.

"It's Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge and Chief Miles O'Brien! And it looks like they've brought some more allies!" called out Neelix.

Rowdy twitched his lips then spat tobacco juice onto the back of a nearby chicken that took off with great offense. Behind him Chakotay, Morn and the leader of the small village stepped out to see what was happening. George came over eating his organ sandwich in relative peace under the shocked looks of Yates' children, Jethro and Mary.

The leader of the village was in his sixties or early seventies but could be seen to have been a very athletic man in his youth. "Welcome," he said. "I am Joaquin de la Vega. I lead these humble people. Welcome to our little village."

One of the men, hopped down from his horse, though you could tell that he was weary. "I'm James West of the-" He paused. "Well, I used to be a member of the Secret Service for the United States. I'm retired. Came out this way looking for a man by the name of Dr. Miguelito Loveless."

Joaquin's eyes hardened. "I have heard that name before, but never connected to anything around here."

West nodded. "Loveless can be tricky like that. Have you heard of or seen large amounts of traffic coming through here but disappears, like into an underground tunnel."

"There has been a number of strange instances in the hills to the southwest of us," commented the older man. "Some are made-up stories to impress their friends but some just seem to strange. Could that be what you are looking for?"

"Possibly. Tell me more."

La Forge and O'Brien made their way off the wagon and over to Chakotay. "Sorry, sir," began La Forge. "We were taken captive and seemed to have lost our comm.-badges."

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Just…a little battered. I'll be all right, sir."

"Good, check on Nog. He's removing the nano-probes from a Borg victim."

"Right away, sir," he said, leaving in the direction indicated.

Rowdy watched from the sidelines as Joaquin introduced West and the rest of the new arrivals to Chakotay, Morn, Neelix and George while gauging their reactions. That was why he was unprepared when one of the newcomers approached him.

"Hey, I recollect you," Festus Haggen said. "You were that bounty hunter that brought in the Wallace gang in Dodge City. Shoot, you and Matthew – Sheriff Dillion, that is – almost got into a row because of how shot up they were." He paused in thought. "Not that they didn't deserve it," he added.

"That part of my life is over."

"Yeah? Changed for Matthew – Sheriff Dillion, that is – too. Married Miss Kitty. She run the local saloon. They adopted a couple of orphans and got a place out of town."

"Hope he's happy."

"He's doin' all right last I heard. Say, how'd you get messed up in all this?"

Rowdy spat. "I was getting clear of what happened in Stockton with my kids. Ran into some of the funny suited strangers. Introduced them to the people here. Joaquin, he's the leader, was my wife's father. A good man. Thought he might want to get his people out of here because of what's happening in Stockton."

"Seems like a strong leader."

"Runs in the family from what I hear. His family used to be one of the wealthy land owners here back when Spain owned all this. Now it's been all taken away from them."

Festus shuffled his head awkwardly. He was proud to be an American, but it was sometimes hard to admit to a lot of the progress and wealth Americans take for granted came at the expense of those less fortunate and often down-trodden. "So," he said changing the subject, "this Borg gang I've been hearing about. Is it as dangerous as the strangers say?"

Clint spit tobacco juice at a nearby cockroach, barely missing it. "From what I've seen, probably worse."

Festus nodded. "I kinda figured. Just hoped I was wrong."

"Hopefully your government sanctioned friend can give us some credibility."

"You mean calling in the cavalry?"

"That too. But because of the impending doom and we had one of the half-breed boys head over to the reservation if they'd send some fighters."

Festus' eyes about bugged out. "Won't that be like throwin' kerosene on a fire?"

"Perhaps. But I'm hoping more along the lines of the enemy of my enemy is my friend kind of thing."

"How do ya know that the Indians won't side with the Borg?"

"Because the Borg don't take sides. They just take everything and everybody."

"Isn't that what the Indians think about us?" Festus said. Rowdy didn't have an answer.

4526558769078890

DEEP INSIDE DR. LOVELESS' LAIR

The giant known only as Voltaire walked down the hall warily. He had returned fruitless from his pursuit of Bly to find the secret sanctum of Dr. Loveless abandoned; but whether that meant the every one had abandoned Dr. Loveless or did Dr. Loveless also have to flee. If he had fled that meant that there could be an enemy around every corner.

Moving deeper and deeper into the bowels of the mountain, Voltaire went to the last place he had seen his master. To the dungeon where the Frankensteinish creature was being kept.

As he neared the torture chamber, he could hear voices ahead, one belonged to Dr. Loveless, but the other was unfamiliar to him and sounded strange. Carefully he edged forward and peered around the corner. To his surprise, it had been the bizarre prisoner talking to the diminutive genius. And to add to his dismay, Dr. Loveless was in the process of freeing the freakish captive.

"Doctor!"

Dr. Miguelito Loveless turned from where he stood in front of the heavily bound Borg drone, whose arm he had half freed. "Ah, dear Voltaire. You have come in time to bear witness to my ascension. Soon I will no longer be burdened by the dying shell of my body. Instead I will be immortalized within the Borg Collective. And it shall be I, Dr. Miguelito Loveless, that will lead the takeover of this planet."

Voltaire stood there confused, unsure of what the brilliant genius was ranting about now. "How?" was all he could ask.

Loveless grinned. "By this!" He freed the drone's arm completely. The drone, who had been sitting quietly through this interaction, leaned forward, tubules extended from the top of his hand, connecting with the neck of Dr. Loveless who just stood there laughing, even through the pain, bracing himself with his cane so that he would meet his fate on his feet.

To his growing horror, the giant killer watched as grayish veins spread across his beloved master's face like some nightmarish vision. Leaping to action, Voltaire grabbed a nearby torch and charged forward.

"No!" Loveless bellowed, holding up a hand to stop the oncoming giant. "This is my will!" he said, through clenched teeth. "And I would have you do likewise and join me."

Knowing that madness must have finally overcome the pain-racked, brilliant man, Voltaire turned to flee, dropping the torch.

A thin bolt of lightning flashed from the end of Loveless' cane striking the giant man in the back.

Numbed almost to unconsciousness, Voltaire could smell the flesh of his back as he struggled to move. When he was able to look up it was into the pale face of the former prisoner who was now kneeling down next to him with tubules extended.

2334528428482579088907

THREE MILES NORTHWEST OF STOCKTON

Lord Bowler spat blood as he tried to figure out what had happened.

Bly.

John Bly.

He had tagged him with a thrown rock or something just as hard as Bowler had rode by on his horse. Reaching back, he touched the back of his head and winced. More blood showed on his fingers.

The only reason that he had known that it had been Bly was that he had been starting to come to from his fall off his horse while the notorious outlaw was taking away his revolvers. "He cold cocked me with my own weapon!"

Looking around Bowler noted another fact. "He stole my horse!"

Looking around some more he came to another conclusion. "Where's my hat? If he stole my hat I'll track him down and kill the bastard no matter where he goes!"

And then he had another thought. "Why'd he leave me alive? He had the advantage. And he must have known that I'd come after the gun-stealin', horse-stealin', hat stealin' son of a-"

A noise caught Bowler by surprise. Feeling lightheaded he moved to sit down only to discover that he had never stood up in the first place. "Hello?" he said.

Four of the most bizarre people Bowler had ever seen walked toward him.

"Is there a circus around here?"

He was aware that the strangers were saying something to him but for some reason he couldn't make out what it was. As one of the newcomers knelt down beside him, Bowler gave him a closer look. "Doesn't that chaff?"

The drone didn't answer. It just extended its tubules to prepare another drone for the collective.

8972345892348572345375

STOCKTON

"I'm relatively certain it's safe as long as they are not antagonized or if we do anything to draw their interest." The time-lord calmly checked his hat to make sure it wasn't dented or bent.

"When you say draw their interest, wouldn't our stepping out in plain sight do just that," said an exasperated Brisco County Jr. as he looked to the others for help in understanding this strange man that they seemed willing to follow.

They all knelt down in the cover of some dense foliage near the Borg-overrun town of Stockton, California.

"You misunderstand the situation," said the Doctor. "Their attention is very much like that of a hive of bees. If you move slowly and carefully around them, you can get in close without the slightest problem from them. But if you disturb them in their tasks, then they will all turn on you."

"It's almost dark," commented Tarzan. "Would not the cover of night be better for us to move closer while they slept."

"These aren't your typical natives, Lord Greystoke. Some drones will stop to regenerate but most will keep working. Besides they can seen in the dark just as well as they can in the day."

Before anyone else could comment, the Doctor stood up and proceeded to stroll down the path, passing a young female drone who was pushing a wheelbarrow ladened with various types of metals salvaged from the buildings of Stockton. Tipping his hat to her, he turned to look at his companions who were staring at him.

Kenny shook his head in disapproval. "He's showing off. If he's not careful the Borg will be all over us."

Tarzan was the first to proceed, followed by Kato. The two men had developed a quick friendship that was based less on words but more on the fighting spirit within each other.

The Green Hornet walked out of the brush with machete carrying Kenny at his side.

Dr. Henry Jones Jr. shook his head and pulled out his gun. "Well?" he said to Brisco.

Brisco sighed. "Fine. I'll come. I'm just not sure what the point of all this is."

"The point is to go and find out something."

They advanced slowly into the town, passing a few dead bodies of those that had fought the Borg to the bitter end, or who had been stampeded by others while trying to escape their strange and horrific enemy. No one spoke as they neared the ten story metal framework shell that the Borg were building. It was almost as if a spell had been cast that rendered them all mute. Kenny tugged on the Gallifreyan's sleeve, but the Doctor just nodded forward.

Inside the metal framework they had to work harder at staying out of the way of the drones who were working there in greater numbers, but the adventures were able to come close to the middle of the structure. Most of the wall and upper floors were incomplete, which the Doctor pointed out was due to the lack of resources at this location. "But once they are able to get this framework to fly, they will be able to move it and its drones to a more plentiful rich source, and thus they would grow and expand," the Doctor explained as if he were on a school field trip.

After allowing an older Chinese drone to pass, the Gallifreyan pulled out a pair of binoculars, that were marked as belong to an organization called U.N.I.T., and adjusted them as he peered up through a space in the ceiling toward the middle of the structure.

"Oh dear."

"What?" asked the Green Hornet.

"It's worse than I thought."

"Don't keep us in suspense," Briscoe said, unnerved by everything he had seen.

"I only have Starfleet records that I glanced over to go on but-"

"Just tell us already," said Indiana.

He put away his binoculars as he turned to regard his companions. "I think they're incubating a queen."

"A what?" said Kato.

Just then the doctor's comm. badge chirped. "Chakotay to the Doctor."

All the drones turned to look at the intruders.

230489572350752374545

TEN MILES NORTHEAST OF STOCKTON

THE NEXT MORNING

The masked man jerked awake, reaching for his gun belt which wasn't there.

"Strangers are approaching," Kwai Chang Caine spoke from the other side of the campfire.

Bleary eyed, John Reid, a.k.a. the Lone Ranger, sat up coughing with difficulty. "It's barely light out. They must be in a terrible hurry to get to wherever they are going."

"Or perhaps they have traveled all night," commented the Shaolin monk. His companion began coughing again so the monk brought over a cup of steaming tea.

"Thank you, Caine. I wouldn't have made it this far without you."

Caine said nothing but stood and turned to face the travelers who were headed straight toward them.

"Expecting trouble?" Reid asked, adjusting his mask and reaching for his revolver that held his silver bullets.

"Anything is possible," answered Caine.

A rider on a horse appeared and hesitated before continuing on toward them and their campfire. Following behind him were two wagons with about six people visable.

"Welcome," Caine told the horseman when he was near enough.

"I don't suppose you have coffee brewing?" inquired the stranger.

"Tea," answered the monk. "But you are welcome to join us."

The wagons pulled up just behind the man, it's occupants waiting for the word of the lead horseman before disembarking. Reid had a coughing fit that caused the horseman to stiffen as he was about to dismount.

"He's not contagious," Caine responded to the unasked question.

"Consumption?" asked the rider.

"That is the term that the doctors have called it."

"I'm Joe Cartwright," said the rider.

"I am Kwai Chang Caine. My companion is-" He paused, uncertain how his friend wished to be addressed.

"Men call me the Lone Ranger," Reid answered, wiping the blood from his lips with a stained rag. "But now I'm just another dying man."

Joe almost dropped his cup of tea. "My pa and my older brother Adam told me about you. You saved them years before I was born. There was this bandit named Pegleg Pete who had held up the-"

"Hey are we stopping for chow finally?" came a call from one of the wagons.

One of the other riders slapped the speaker causing him to fall out of the wagon and land in a nearby cactus patch.

Joe grimaced. "I'd better take care of this. But I just wanted to say that it is an honor to meet you."

Caine sipped his tea as Joe Cartwright went to extract all three stooges from the cactus patch now. "It seems your heroic deeds are still earning you praise."

"Yes, but once I die, they will all soon forget. I shall have no legacy. Now will Tonto."

"Is not the man you just met a part of the legacy of your deeds as the Lone Ranger and Tonto's as well."

"But who will carry it on, Caine?"

"You wish to pass on the mantle of the Lone Ranger," stated Caine in understanding.

Reid did not answer.

892334458923523890475

AUTHOR's NOTES:

Well here I am again with the next installment of my story. Has anyone figured out my latest character introduction? (I don't mean Pegleg Pete.)

Lots of things have happened. Lets take a look.

Little Joe and company are free from Dr. Loveless.

Dr. Loveless, Voltaire and Lord Bowler have all become drones, but Loveless has made a deal with the Borg.

The Star Trek team has been introduced with Q's recruits from Alien Nation and Due South, and also joined forces with one of our western teams. There is also the possibility of cavalry or Indians joining.

Dr. Who's team was left at a cliff hanger after discovering that the Borg are incubating a new Queen for this parallel universe.

And finally the Lone Ranger and Caine met with the escaping Joe Cartwright and friends.

Where should I go from here? Any suggestions? I'm always willing to listen to a good idea if I can pull it off.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

**DEEP SPACE NINE**

**CURRENTLY ORBITING EARTH**

"Enter."

Odo stepped into Captain Sisko's office with determined steps, glancing around to assure himself that nothing was out of the ordinary. He easily noted the captain's tired expression. "You look exhausted, captain."

It was a statement of the obvious. Q had moved Deep Space Nine to an orbit around the Earth in the blink of an eye, and in just a few million miles from a similarly orbiting Borg vessel that had been sending numerous drones to parallel worlds of Earth and at different time periods thanks to a new technology they had appropriated. Thanks again to the Q the Borg cube was unable to send anymore drones out to parallel universes but that left the ship just sitting there orbiting Earth. It was very unnerving.

In addition, Sisko also had the away missions to these worlds being conducted on his space station. In Quark's bar, numerous recording and monitoring devices were being used in surveillance of the holo-images being produced there by Q of the agents Q and his likewise annoying kindred Q2 as they traveled and fought against the Borg drones.

"You seem well rested, constable," countered Sisko.

The Changeling actually seemed embarrassed, but did not explain that while he had rested in his liquid form in his urn, Kira had held it close to her as she slept. "Yes, well, I just thought that you'd like to know that we had recovered one of the lost Klingons. It's Kaga, the Klingon chef from the Promenade deck."

Sisko put down the coffee he had been sipping. While he had last been sleeping, one of the holodeck's had been converted by Q at Captain Janeway's request to be used as a means to view the various worlds the Borg had managed to 'slide' to, and to also keep a troop of semi-intoxicated Klingon allies entertained.

What had not been anticipated was that Wade Welles, one of the four Sliders who had come here with the 'slider' technology and been turned into a Borg drone, and later was reclaimed from the Borg, had attempted to use Q's device to search for one of her lost companions, Professor Maximillian Arturo, who had also been turned into a drone. She succeeded in her venture, but during the reclamation an altercation had occurred. Fourteen Klingons, intoxicated on blood-wine, had rushed forward through a large portal to face the Borg but had ended up getting separated and tossed into various worlds under Borg invasion.

"Is Kaga alright?"

Odo nodded. "And he has quite a story to tell."

"I'll bet."

"Turns out he had landed in what seems to be a medieval Europe country."

"The locals must have thought he was a demon."

"Luckily there wasn't much of a local Human population nearby."

"So the Borg didn't have anyone to assimilate?"

"Not exactly. There were some small blue humanoids about four to five inches tall that had been assimilated by the Borg."

Sisko leaned back in his chair. "I didn't know the Borg accepted species that small." He paused in contemplation. "Wait a minute! These little blue people – they weren't elves, trolls or fairies or something like that, were they?"

"Uh, no, captain. Kaga called them Smurfs. When he had sobered up and understood the situation better, he managed to align himself with the remaining Smurfs who had not been turned into drones and a local Human named Gargamel, who claimed to be a wizard."

"A wizard?"

Odo shrugged. "We've seen stranger things lately."

"Go on," Sisko said with a resigned look.

"When Wade Welles located Kaga with the viewer Q had made on the holodeck, Kaga and Gargamel had almost defeated most of the drones. A rescue party led by Worf did not have much to do and did manage to capture a few of the smaller drones."

"Worf brought more Borg drones onto my station!?!"

"Dr. Bashir and Dr. Crusher are already working to return them to their normal state under the supervision of the Voyagers holographic medical program."

"I suppose it was the humane thing to do. But I want force fields around sickbay and around each drone. I don't want mice size Borg drones crawling through the walls of Deep Space Nine." He took another sip of coffee. "Chief O'Brien would never forgive me if I'd let that happen," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"You may also want to establish some regulations for as to what is brought through that portal," Odo pointed out.

"What do you mean?"

"Tom Paris, Admiral Paris' son, has used it to bring aboard a couple plant creatures called triffids."

Sisko groaned. "I know he attended Starfleet Academy. Doesn't he remember all of the regulations Starfleet instated about taking aboard other lifeforms after that Tribble disaster?"

"Probably not, captain. Perhaps you'd like to tell him?"

Sisko groaned again. "An admiral's son. Why do they always seem to give everyone the worst headaches?"

**A PARALLEL WORLD BEING ATTACKED BY THE BORG**

**NEAR STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA 1895**

The scene around the morning campfire was cozy and friendly. Huitzilopochtli Ramos, having driven one of the two wagons all night lay in the shade under one of them while catching a nap. Isabeau was cooking a second batch of flapjacks on a metal griddle propped carefully over the campfire, while a few potatoes were cooking slowly in the nearby hot ashes. The first batch had been made by Larry and had evidently contained too much salt. Fortunately, he most of them the recipients of the first batch of pancakes had been served to Larry's friends, Moe and Curly. Janos Bartok, being a scientist, was reading some of the research papers that they had liberated from Dr. Loveless' hidden citadel. As he read there were times that he stared at the pages in amazement and in some cases bewilderment.

Next to the fire lay John Reid, a.k.a. the Lone Ranger, basking in its heat as he listened to Joe Cartwright tell of how he and the others had left the secret lair of Dr. Loveless.

"I never really run into him or his men as far as I know. I didn't actually have the best information coming my way since my deeds weren't exactly approved of by the government."

Joe chuckled and shook his head. "But you were approved of by the people. That close enough in my book."

"Thank you," said the masked man, coughing slightly.

Joe looked pained to see such a great man – and one of his childhood heroes – going through such torment.

"Didn't Dr. Loveless have a nemesis that worked for the government," asked the Lone Ranger to distract him.

"Yes. He would rant about him from time to time," said Joe, sipping his tea. "He was a secret service agent that retired named James West. And he had a partner, Artemus Gordon."

The masked man did a quick intake of air. "West, his partner, a retired deputy marshal, a card player and a large man with a white 10-gallon hat came by this way about a day ago."

He had Joe's attention. "A large man with a white 10-gallon hat? Was his name Hoss? Actually it's Eric Cartwright, but we all call him Hoss."

"Don't know his name. Didn't even know their business."

"It's got to be Hoss! He must have come out here to save me!" He looked around bewildered as he was hit by a number of thoughts. "But they'd be heading straight into a trap! Dr. Loveless will catch them and take out his wrath on them."

"So…." The Lone Ranger adjusted his hat onto his head. "What are we going to do about it."

Joe broke out into a grin. "Saddle up?"

The masked man nodded.

"Will you come?"

"You'd have a hard time stopping me."

Joe jumped up and hollered to the other to pack up. Hurriedly, he worked to get the horses back to the wagon while a sleepy Ramos tried to ask him what was going on.

Kwai Chang Caine came around from the side and offered him a cup of fresh water from the nearby river. "You did not tell him your reason for wanting to go with him."

"That I am trying to catch up to kill one of his brother's companions? No."

"You do not think he would agree with your intentions?" asked the Shaolin monk, in a manner that indicated he already knew the answer.

"It's none of his business! I will avenge Tonto!"

Nearby, Isabeau looked up in concern at the raised voices, but finished cooking the pancakes so they could eat as they traveled.

ON THE ROAD TO STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA 1895 

While Chakotay and the others had left the village with no name as soon as they had lost contact with their time-lord ally, they had had to stop for the night once the sun had set. The ground of the big valley proved to be too treacherous for traveling with horses at night. Besides the nocturnal animals – snakes, scorpions, gila monsters and such – were also problems they were not able to travel safely through. As they sat by a nice cozy bonfire the travelers admitted to themselves that the resourceful Doctor was just going to have to save himself this time as Chakotay's group was just too far away to help them in time. Still, before dawn was fully realized, Chakotay had his team ready to go in case they could still provide some help for the Doctor.

Constable Benton Fraser and his lupine companion, Diefenbaker, scouted ahead with Rowdy Yates, who had left his two kids with one of the families at the unnamed village.

Chakotay, the first officer of the Federation starship Voyager, had seldom ridden a horse before, and never in such terrain. In addition, most of his experiences on the beasts had been on a holodeck. Here, in the real world, after hours of riding, he was discovering that not only was he saddle sore, but he was beginning to chaff in an area that Starfleet uniforms were designed to prevent chaffing. To his frustration he was becoming fixated on trying to come up with a semi-reasonable excuse to get the hypo-spray from Nog without explaining his real intentions.

While he could have ridden in one of the two wagons with many of the others, two of the obvious leaders, James West and Joaquin de la Vega, rode horses in front of wagons and Chakotay felt he needed to connect with them if they were going to fight effectively together. Plus, it gave him time to try explain more about the Borg.

West had needed little practice with the plasma rifle that they had provided him. He was a quick student and very sure of himself. Joaquin, the oldest member of the troop, rode a graying black stallion like he had been born there. "I had trained this horse from a colt to be a gift for my son. It is one of the few things I have left to remember him by," he had said to Chakotay when asked why he had chosen the graying horse.

The older man seemed disinterested in an energy weapon preferring the blade he wore at his side. Chakotay did note the increased respect Agent West attributed to Joaquin after the old man had changed into a black outfit after announcing that he would be accompanying them against the Borg. The black satin and leather outfit was daring, flamboyant and very charismatic. The 24th century man made a mental note to have a replica of it made for him to use in a holo-suite setting sometime. Or on Risa.

"Forgive me for asking. I'm very new to the area," he said, mentally adding, '_and to this era_.' "But what is the significance of your attire?"

"You really aren't from around here," said James West.

Joaquin sighed. "It is what some would call a family tradition or legacy. It started with my grandfather. He past it on to the man who later married his daughter, who was my mother. I took on the legacy during…shall we say hard times…definitely changing times. California was no longer the property of Spain or Mexico. Your United States took control and the people who had lived here for generations were uprooted from their lands."

"I do not belong to the United States, sir," Chakotay clarified.

"Regardless, the lands of my father, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather were taken from me by force by your military. I was rendered destitute and bankrupt. My son took up our family legacy and stood against the injustices being done. And he was killed for it."

Chakotay stumbled for words. "I-I am sorry."

Joaquin continued, "My only other child married Rowdy Yates. A rough individual. But caring. A better man than any I could have found for her in recent years. Rowdy was not interested in our legacy, though he cherished my daughter. They had two children and they refused to let me train them in the art of the sword. So I am the last. The legacy of my family ends with me."

"I'm not sure I understand," Chakotay said, hesitantly. "What exactly is your legacy?"

"Why, the legacy of Zorro, protector of the people!"

Chakotay almost fell off his horse.

"I see you have heard of me and my family in the far off place that you come from."

"Yes, sir. Yes, I have."

"And you, Mr. West, you are not surprised?"

"I've known of you and your whereabouts for a very long time, Senor de la Vega," West answered. "I've respected your intentions and deeds. I've also regretted what my country has done to your people. But what I do want to tell you is that I did meet your son once in Los Angeles. Together we put a stop to a gang illegally bringing in your Chinese girls to be used in prostitution. We saved each others lives more than once that week."

"Tell me," Zorro said, in a soft voice.

"Sir?"

"Our family was not big on boasting of our deeds. We just did what had to be done. Tell me of your time with my son," he said, the pleading evident in his voice.

"Yes, sir. Of course." And he did.

A little ways behind them Hoss Cartwright and Morn rode side by side on large horses. Hoss listened in amusement and bewilderment at the tales the Lurian told, which was a pleasant distraction from worrying about his little brother's unknown fate.

Behind the two wide shouldered riders came a wagon bearing four travelers – Festus Haggen, Brett Maverick, Artemus Gordon and Geordi La Forge. The three older men were letting La Forge try his hand at steering the horses much to their merriment. Festus had just finished a song he entitled 'Corn Bread And Butter Milk' to which they laughed.

"Good song. How'd you get set up traveling around singing? Is there much money in it?" asked Gordon.

"Not much dough for my type of lyrics," Festus replied. "Truth is I just do it for kicks. You see I had already made all the money I'll ever need the old fashioned way."

"You inherited it?" Gordon answered.

"Nah."

"You stole it?" asked Brett Maverick, jokingly.

"Nah."

"You worked hard saving your money so that you could have a nice retirement in your later years?" came La Forge's response.

"Now you're just being ridiculous!"

La Forge, reigns in hand, looked back. "All right, then how did you make your fortune."

"Well, I wouldn't call it a fortune," Festus said modestly. "But there is quite a little story behind it. After Marshall Dillon and Miss Kitty got hitched, I quit being a deputy at Dodge City and moved to Tombstone. I fell for a beautiful gal there but she tore my heart up like a sow's bed. Hurtin', I ended up getting' liquored up and in a late night poker game with my life savings."

"You bet your life savings in a poker game?" Geordi said, stunned.

"Some of us do it all the time," Brett responded. "It's a livelihood."

"Hey, I was drunk over a gal. I'm lucky that's all I did. Anyway," he continued, "I was luckier than most as two of the gamblers at the table didn't like the fact that the others were about to fleece me. So they set it up so that I won. Everything."

"Sounds like some really nice guys," Gordon said. "There any trouble over you winning all the money."

"Looked like it for a moment, but one of the fellas that helped me was Doc Holiday who was a personal friend of the Sheriff there. Sheriff Wyatt Earp who was not happy about people taking advantage of people. The other fella that helped me was Brady Hawkes."

"Hey! I know Hawkes," Brett said. "He's pretty good."

"Yep, I woke up the next mornin' with a tongue that had been used to tar the roof of my mouth. And I was comfortably wealthy for a change."

"And so now you travel around singing," La Forge said.

"Yep. What do you do?"

"Mostly I manage the engines of a galaxy-class starship."

"Uh." They had all been informed of the futuristic origins of La Forge and his colleagues, and the aliens among them made it much more believable. But it was still hard for them to deal with it. "How about you, Artie. You used to be a secret service agent. What kind of skill do they look for when taking on new agents?"

"Well," Artemus rubbed his hands together as he warmed to one of his favorite subjects, himself. "it's different for everybody. A good poker face helps. The ability to handle yourself in a fight as well as being good with weapons. A sharp eye for the not so obvious. Other than that it's the personal skills that a person has. For instance, I have a way with the ladies."

"Bah!" said Brett. "You'd like to think that!"

"Contrary to your belief it is true," defended Artemus. "I also am very handle scientific gadgets that you wouldn't-" He paused, considering Geordi. "Well maybe you would believe. But I also a master of disguise."

"Really? What can you disguise yourself as?" asked Festus.

"If he's good maybe he could pass himself off as a gentleman," hooted Maverick.

"Hardy har har," said the unimpressed retired secret service agent. "I'll have you know I've passed myself off as a blind man, a vagrant, an Indian, a railroad tycoon, a stable hand, a woman, a-"

"People thought you were a woman?" Geordi said with surprise.

"That must have been one ugly woman!" laughed Brett.

"Did you do the powder and lipstick, too?" joked Festus.

"I'll have you know that I had men making passes at me! I could be quite attractive! Not that I ever let the flirting get anywhere," he amended when he noticed the others starting to grow quiet.

"So what you are saying," Brett said with a straight face, "was that you were a tease."

Gordon looked offended but the laughter drowned out his protests.

In the wagon that followed behind everyone else rode Det. Stanley Raymond Kowalski, Det. Matthew Sikes, Det. George Francisco, Neelix with Nog holding the reins of the horses.

Stanley Kowalski looked out at the sagebrush and trees, and then at his fellow riders in the flatbed wagon. "You know as a boy I had often dreamt of traveling in a horse drawn wagon in the old west. I had just never imagined that I'd ever get a chance to do it along with three different types of aliens."

"Problem with that?" Matthew said, immediately defensive about his partner, George. He was used to sticking up for George, and defending him from the bigoted comments of the thoughtless people they tried to serve and protect. And while being a stranger in this strange land he had become fond of Nog, Neelix and Morn.

"I don't think that was quite what Det. Kowalski meant," interjected Neelix.

Stanley held his hands up in defense. "I have no problem with any of the aliens. They all seem to be on our side. What should be bothering me is that I've time-traveled to the wild west in a parallel world which has alien cybernetic beings forcibly converting everyone around them to their cause in a manner that would have the Communists and Socialists drooling. But what is really bothering me is the lack of shocks on this wagon and that no one seems to have invented toilet paper in this time period."

"Sounds like someone's got a personal problem," Nog sang out cheerfully from where he sat with the horses' reigns. Ever since he had finished his job countering the nanites in Heath Barkley and programmed other nanites to initiate bodily repairs, he had perked up and began keeping company with Det. Matthew Sikes, Det. George Francisco and Neelix.

"Let's just say I think I may have rubbed myself the wrong way early this morning," Stanley bemoaned.

"Whoa! Way too much personal information!" Matthew proclaimed.

"And yet it is exactly experiences like that that the travelers of the 'wild west', as you call it, went through on a daily bases," George said.

Matthew nodded. "It's true. I never thought of all the dust being kicked up in my face back when I played cowboy and Indians as a kid. But as we see here it is a very real bit of reality. The flies, too."

"I am amazed that so many of your children would fantasies about this time period," Neelix said. "What cultural elements do you think most appeal to youngsters?"

Stanley raised a finger. "I know some of this. Cowboys and Indians. Bandits robbing the bank. The Cavalry riding in to save the day. All kids – well, mostly boys – love these kinds of themes."

"Yeah, you got Davy Crockett, Daniel Boone, Wild Bill Hitchcock, Crazy Horse, Calamity Jane, Billy the Kid, Jesse James. All of them and more with more stories then could fill a kid's imagination," Matthew added.

"You're forgetting the best part," Nog said.

"What's that," George asked.

"Now that we are here and will be fighting the Borg, we could possibly become part of the western lore that kids will mimic as they are playing decades from now."

The riders of the wagon were silent for a while as they contemplated that nugget of information. "You know," Matthew said, "that may be the best thing that will come out of this trip for me."

"Yeah, well, that probably because the kids will probably have an easier time with your name," Kowalski said, lightheartedly.

**OUTSIDE STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA ON A HILL**

As they sat on top of the hill, Dr. Henry Jones, Jr. tried to take stoke of the situation. In less than 24 hours he had gone from being a prisoner of Fu Manchu during an attack by Martian invaders in Germany to traveling in a British phone box that wasn't a phone box back a few decades in the middle of California with another alien attack occurring from a parallel world.

Even with all the extraordinary things that had been happening, he still couldn't help being disappointed in only going back in time a few decades, just a few years before he was to be born. He would have loved to go back in time a thousand years, or two thousand years or even ten thousand years into the past to verify archeological evidence or even better to learn something of what people did back then that has been long forgotten. Perhaps he could talk this so-called time-lord into taking him back to a few other time periods after this was all wrapped up. There were some facts he would love to verify with some historical figures like Charlemagne, King Solomon and Plato. "If we survive," he muttered to himself.

"You ain't whistling Dixie," commented Marshal Brisco County, Jr. who was also a secret service agent for the United States. "What was done to those people is just plain evil, and I still think they look dead to me. I still can't figure out why those zombies let us walk out of there."

"You haven't dealt with bees much, have you?" the archeologist asked.

Brisco shrugged. "I try to avoid them. I swell up like a pig when I'm stung."

"These Borg automatons behave a lot like bees in a beehive. You may have noticed that sometimes bees buzz louder if they are agitated; well those drones were behaving the same way when we were in the middle of their hive looking at their newly forming queen. According to the doctor, these automatons communicate on some kind of ethereal level so if we had disturbed so much as one of those drones, all of them would have been on us and assimilated into their hive or cult if you will."

As they glanced down at the former town of Stockton, California, drones milled around like ants picking apart a corpse and carrying bits to its nest, the large metal shell that was slowly filling out in form.

"Hey, kid! Any sign of those allies your Doctor pal said would be coming to help us?"

The kid, the Immortal Kenny, glanced over. "No clue. The Doctor lost his communicator turning it off down there when we were inside the Borg framework. We can only assume help is coming."

Jones nodded. He had hoped there would be more information by now. The Doctor had taken Lord Greystoke, who was now running around without his shirt on, as well as the Green Hornet and Kato to explore the other side of Stockton and the drone ship to see if there were any easier way to gain access to the massive metal structure that the Borg were building. Also they were looking for any survivors that may have escaped the initial Borg invasion. It may be a useless effort but it was one that they felt had to be undertaken on the off chance there were survivors. Meanwhile, Jones, County and Kenny stood vigil as they watched hopefully for their reinforcements.

"Hey this might prove interesting!" Kenny said, pointing to a line of four Borg drones filing out from the far side of the valley where they had evidently been exploring. Impeding their way was a large grizzly bear, who seemed upset by their approach as well as their strange nature. As the massive animal charged, the lead drone raised its prosthetic limb and fired a green beam that seemed to leap out and surround the bear briefly before removing it from existence.

"Good Lord!" Jones shouted.

"You didn't say they could do that!" Brisco exclaimed. "You never said that they could do anything like that! My God! We were surrounded by those things yesterday! And you never said they could do anything like that!"

"What? You thought those metal arms strapped on them were just for decoration?" Kenny snidely answered.

Briscoe didn't respond. Instead he was staring at the last drone in the line which had obviously not been refitted yet. "That's Bowler with them down there. Why is Bowler with them?"

"Uh, Brisco," Kenny said in a much softer tone. "I think your friend Bowler is one of them now."

"No. He-he doesn't look like one of them."

Kenny sighed. "He hasn't been refitted with the extra drone parts yet, but notice how gray he looks. That's the first step. He's got the nano-probes in his body giving the Borg control of him."

Brisco didn't understand. "You're saying he's possessed?"

"Not exactly," Kenny said.

Brisco moved to go down the hill, but Jones grabbed his arm to stop him, thus receiving a blow to the nose for his efforts. Kenny side kicked the marshal in his knee causing Brisco to fall in pain.

"If you go down there, they will make a drone out of you, too. And then they would know everything we know and be prepared to stop us."

Brisco held onto his knee, blinking back tears. "They're going to cut off his arm and-"

"Yeah, and they'll cut off your arm, too, if you go down there. Trust me. I'm over nine hundred years old. I know what I'm talking about when it comes to potentially losing a limb or a head."

Kenny's age surprised both Jones and County, providing for an awkward, but necessary distraction as down below them the four drones made their way unmolested back into the hive.

**AUTHOR's NOTES**

I'm posting! I love it! Next time there will be Borg fighting. I promise. Just needed to set things in motion.

Okay. The smurf thing. Well, a couple of years ago there used to be this website called "You Can't Do That On Star Trek" and it had this photo gallery where people held contests on pictures that they augmented with Star Trek themes. Some were great. A couple included smurfs being assimilated into the Borg.

I'm still waiting for suggestions or writings from anyone about what adventures the other lost Klingons may be having in the multiverse while fighting the Borg on parallel versions of Earth. Anyone interested?

Who knows what a triffid is? I was just trying to think of something annoying to throw in here that Sisko would hate but Tom Paris would do.

Okay. Honestly, how many people guessed that Joaquin de la Vega, the leader of the unnamed village was the third Zorro. Joaquin de la Vega is the name used by the son of Zorro in THE LEGEND OF ZORRO (2005). So around this time period he would be much older. Now I wasn't trying to make any political statements about how the Hispanic people of California were treated so unfair during that time. It just was. I'm actually more conservative in my views but I believe in some strong liberal issues.

Anybody figure out who the Lone Ranger wants to kill for the death of Tonto? It is someone traveling in James West's group. But that is all I'm saying about that.

Nog is getting better use out of the Dax symbiote. I'm trying to come up with a good scene for him.

As for myself, my life is chaos. My baby turns two tomorrow. My wife is pregnant but it's one of those horrible pregnancies with so much throwing up she became extremely dehydrated and has spent the last 11 days in the OHSU hospital. She just came home and I'm administering her IV fluid. I've had to drop out of college but luckily I was only taking one class. I'm so glad we have insurance. I really need to win the lottery.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**QUARK'S BAR**

**DEEP SPACE NINE**

**CURRENTLY ORBITING EARTH**

"Let me see if I understand you," Benjamin Sisko said, with great restraint while showing more than a hint of frustration. "You are filing a grievance complaint against us?"

"That is correct, sir," Agent Kay responded automatically. "Your cross-dimensional portal up there on what you call a holo-deck not only allowed non-registered aliens to disembark onto our planet against standard protocols, but they were also armed, intoxicated and clearly without Human disguise."

"And," added his partner, Agent Jay, "our fair city of New York was being terrorized by a bunch of cyber-zombies called the Borg, who give a new meaning to body-snatching by the way, and who also happened to have originated from this parallel universe!" Agent Jay lowered his dark glasses to look at Sisko eyeball to eyeball. "What do you have to say about that?"

"Easy, sport, let Commander Sisko explain," Agent Kay said, reigning in his partner.

"It's Captain Sisko!" corrected Sisko, who was surprised he had risen to the bait.

"Whatever," Jay said.

Behind them, Vorik and Alexander were helping up the two lost Klingons that Agents Kay and Jay had returned to the orbital station via an energy vortex similar to the one that the group called the Sliders used except that it was orange in color.

One of the now conscious Klingons, with a graying beard and a eye patch riveted over an eye socket, pushed aside Vorik and howled in outrage, pulled out a long, bladed weapon and charged Agent Kay.

Agent Kay instinctively ducked the lethal swing, and kicked back at the Klingon in the groin after which gravity brought the warrior to his knees.

"I'll take that," Odo said, prying the long knife from the Klingon's semi-resisting hand. And that too, Agent Jay."

"What?" Jay said, looking down at the small compact weapon known as the 'Noisy Cricket' in his hand. "No way, man. Or… whatever you are."

Agent Kay sighed. "Kid, what did I tell you about bringing high-impact weapons aboard a space station?"

"What? This?" he said, innocently. "I didn't think you meant this." With signs of great regret he handed over his weapon to the Changeling. Behind them the security team Odo had called arrived to take the two Klingons down to Sickbay.

Sisko wished the admirals weren't in an emergency session talking via the communications system to representatives of the Federation Department of Temporal Investigations, or he'd happily drop the two dark suited agents that had arrived here unannounced and their complaints into their laps. He did see Admiral McCoy snoozing quietly in a corner, but he couldn't bring himself to put these to men on the legendary man. He couldn't even interrupts them to tell them that Admiral Paris' son, Tom, was in Sickbay after an erroneous contact with a plant creature from another parallel Earth.

"I will give this-this document to my superiors as soon as they are available, but meanwhile, can we offer you information about the Borg to aid your people?"

Agent Kay smiled lazily. "The collective entity known as the Borg has already been neutralized, and the people impressed into its mental consciousness and physical servitude are already being repaired and returned to their regular lives."

Sisko blinked. "I thought you hailed from the twentieth Century. How could you possibly have the knowledge and technology to reconvert people from their drone states?"

"Actually we're from the beginning of the twenty-first century," Agent Kay answered, enigmatically not answering any of Sisko's unasked questions that were obvious on his face. "But due to your lack of knowledge I feel that I should tell you that if you wish to contest our complaint that the fragment of time lines that you and I occupy fall into the jurisdiction of the ones we know of as the time-lords."

"What?" Sisko was surprised. "Time-lords? Like the Doctor?"

Kay looked hard at Sisko. "You know the Doctor? Which one?"

Sisko looked at Odo. Odo just shook his head. "We don't know who he is actually. He just goes by the title of Doctor."

"Kay meant which incarnation of the Doctor," Agent Jay said, trying to sound superior.

Sisko and Odo looked at each other again in growing confusion. "Incarnation? What do you mean exactly?"

Agent Kay held up a hand. "It would take too long to explain. Just tell us what the man looked like. We should be able to figure it out from that. The Doctor is nothing if not consistent. At least during each incarnation."

"Let me get you a visual," Odo said, pulling out a PADD and pushed a few buttons. Within seconds he turned the small screen toward them.

"Ah, the fourth Doctor," Agent Kay said. "Yes, this is more like the messes that he involves himself in. You should be in good hands with him here."

"The fourth Doctor?" Sisko asked."

"I'll let the Doctor explain," Kay said, instead of answering.

"Yeah," Agent Jay said, "we wouldn't want to confuse you with our early twenty-first century lingo and terminology."

At the bar a very bruised Quark catered to four of the other arrivals from the orange energy slide. He didn't care where they came from. Starfleet was paying for everything so the more that was consumed the more he could charge Starfleet when this was all over. "What kind of drinks will you have?" he asked the four similarly looking aliens. They were each about three feet tall, yellowish, naked but gender was not noticeable, and all had humanoid limbs. The four Worms spoke one right after the other which led Quark to conclude they were either siblings, married to each other, or had a telepathic connection.

"Coffee!"

"Brew of the Bean!"

"The brown drink of wonder!"

"The flavor of greatness!"

"Ah, coffee lovers. Well, I guess it takes all kinds to fill a bar." He pulled out a PADD and pressed a few buttons. "We have over 7,685 flavors of coffee available. Any preferences?"

The Worms gasped collectively, and then threw themselves onto the floor in front of Quark, bowing before him. "We're not worthy!" they began to chant.

"Now these are the type of customers I could use more of in here," the Ferengi barman said to himself, with the first genuine smile on his face since he had been beaten by that Earth woman named Buffy on that divergent Earth called Coruscant.

Seeing Odo eyeing the four worshipful aliens suspiciously, Quark quickly pulled them up off the floor and got them onto barstools. "So you like coffee, huh. Well, since you arrived with some Klingons. I'll let you try their version of coffee first. It's called raktajino, by the way."

"Oh, please!"

"It would be a delight!"

"Yes, wondrous coffee!"

"The flavor of greatness!"

Three of the Worms turned to their right to look at the last Worm. "You already said that line," one of them said.

The Worm looked sheepish. "Sorry. I was caught up in the moment."

"Here you go," Quark said, putting down a tray with four steaming cups of raktajino.

The Worms grabbed the cups and began guzzling instantly, like dehydrated survivors coming across a water stream. As one they turned and spat out the substance onto the floor.

"Poison!"

"Treachery!"

"Infidel!"

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Waitasecond! Waitasecond!" Quark held out his hands hoping to quell these coffee zealots. If he had a bar fight over coffee in his establishment he would never live it down.

"Klingon coffee takes a very distinct and brutal palate. Let's try a different version that you might be more to your liking."

The Worms were miffed but the promise of coffee made them reconsider.

"It better be good."

"The glorious bean was never meant to like that."

"I think one of my stomachs turned inside out."

"You need a coffee that a Worm can appreciate."

"Worms, huh?" Quark scratched his chin in thought. "You know I might have just the thing for you." He talked into a food replicator. "Coffee. Four cups. Aldorian-Terran sample 34." Then he placed each cup on the tray to bring over." When the Worms hesitantly reached for the cups he shooed them away. "It's not ready yet." Looking underneath the bar he searched for a few minutes before he brought up a small leather bag. "Ah, here it is."

"What is it?" one of the Worms asked.

"It's called mélange. It's a residue from a giant desert worm. Very potent I hear."

"That doesn't sound good."

"So you haven't tried it yourself?"

"Are you using us as guinea pigs?"

"What does this have to do with coffee?"

Quark put a little of the mélange in each cup. He had heard the Doctor tell about the spice when he had given it to Guinin to try out. When she went out on her date with that twentieth century metamorph Dr. Banner, she had forgotten it, giving Quark a chance to test some of it. "It's a stimulant. A minor one that will also enhance the coffee."

The Worms looked at the coffee cups steaming in front of them cautiously. Finally one of them reached forward and took the cup and gave it a small sip.

"Well?" asked one of the others.

"Is it safe?"

"Are you alive? If not, can I have your coffee cup back home?"

The Worm holding the coffee cup smiled blissfully. "I can feel myself becoming one with the bean and it is wondrous!"

To the Worms this was the greatest praise they had ever heard regarding coffee and they had come up with a lot of descriptions for the bean. They were soon all sipping slowly of the euphoric drink.

"Quark?"

"Uh, Odo?" Quark jumped, surprised at the sudden appearance of the Changeling. He tried to nonchalantly placing the small leather bag under the counter.

"Quark, I'm going to need to see what's in that bag."

"Um, it's not really my bag."

"I've heard that one before."

**JUST OUTSIDE OF STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA**

When the Starfleet group and their allies neared the ransacked town of Stockton, they were quickly greeted by their time-lord collaborator who they only knew of as the Doctor and his group of companions. They were twenty-five in number if they included the deaf wolf. They were a motley group that consisted of 5 members of Starfleet, 3 vigilantes, 1 self-proclaimed ape-man, 1 former bounty hunter, 5 aliens, 1 secret service agent, 2 former secret service agent, 1 former deputy, 1 Canadian constable, 3 detectives, 1 gambler, 1 archeologist, 1 Immortal, and 17 of them came from different time periods.

As they stopped just outside of the town, gazing at the drones tearing apart buildings for recourses, they took a moment to confer with each other. As Chakotay made his was over to the Doctor, Brisco went to confer with James West and Artemus Gordon.

"West, what took you guys so long? And what did you do, stop and ask for help from a traveling circus?" Brisco said.

"I'd cut the chatter if I were you, County," Gordon said, bristling from Brisco's remark. "Some of these people are from another planet. You know, one of those large round things that circles another sun."

Brisco gawked as Nog and Morn passed by them. The four people that the Doctor had brought from this universe's future regarded the newcomers somewhat warily. It had not been that long ago that Fu Manchu had told them that Martian invaders were attacking the Earth, but none of them actually knew what a Martian looked like. Tarzan actually growled at Morn's outstretched hand until Kato stepped forward and shook the Lurian's hand. Seeing his faux pas, Lord Greystoke went into British aristocracy mode, replacing his snarl with a smile and stepped forward to also greet this new ally.

"The people you have with you seem rather unique, too," commented Jim West.

"Who them?" Brisco said, nonchalantly. "They're just time travelers. From the future."

"I wonder if Dr. Loveless ever tried time-travel." Gordon considered, as he regarded the Green Hornet and Indiana Jones.

"There was a scientist/writer named H.G. Welles who tried his hand at it," West said. "I never did hear if he succeeded. But Artie, you do bring up an interesting point."

"Which is?" Brisco said.

"Well, we've been so busy rushing around trying to deal with this Borg matter that we've forgotten that we are in a territory where Loveless evidently has a hidden lair."

Gordon glanced over at the city of Stockton. Their group was about a hundred yard from the nearest building, a safe distance from the Borg according to Chakotay. "Guess it would be too much to wish that these – these nightmares of Frankenstein would have done away with Loveless."

Nearby, Festus Haggen stood on the sidelines of the group with Brett Maverick regarding a drone that was extracting gold teeth from a large fat man that had been dead a few days. "I know that that black fella Geordi said these Borg fellas would be scroungin' around fer metals and such, but I had know idea that they'd go to such lengths."

"Really, I thought you said you'd been to Tombstone," Brett said. "But I know what you mean," he said more seriously. "I can feel my gold fillings shaking it the sight of this."

"That man's one of the lucky ones," Nog said, behind them. "I've seen holographic simulations of people getting assimilated into drones for the Borg. That's what's really scary."

"Where do they come from?" Brett asked.

Nog sighed. "We still don't know their origins, but it's further away than you can imagine."

Matthew Sikes and Stanley 'Ray' Kowalski ran checks over their phasers that Chakotay had supplied them with. They had practiced firing the weapons on the wagon ride here with Chakotay and Morn drilling them on changing the frequency of their weapons when ever the Borg adapted to them.

"I gotta tell you I'm scared," Stanley said.

"I know what you mean. I've got a wife and baby back home and I never even got a chance to say goodbye."

"Blond or brunette?"

"Neither. She's a Newcomer."

Stanley almost shot his foot. "You married one of them?!? A Tenctonese woman?!? But-Wait! You had a child with her? Humans and Tenctonese are compatible genetically?"

Matthew held up a hand. "There is a lot more to it than that. And now is not the time for questions and answers. What I don't understand is why we are standing here in plain sight of the enemy. And they aren't even reacting to us. Reminds me of some zombie movie I saw when I was a kid."

"Matthew?" George Francisco, Matthew's Tenctonese partner on the police force, walked over. "Chakotay wants us to set up a perimeter watch over by that church while he and the Doctor work out the best plan of attack."

"Yeah, okay. I – They're hauling away the church bell!"

"Matthew?" George said, putting a firm hand on his hot-headed partner's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm just fuming," he finally responded. "Is Kowalski and Fraser coming with us?"

"They will be stationed down a little further from us. Down over there at that outhouse near the well," he answered, pointing for them.

"An outhouse next to a well?" Stanley repeated, with a sick face. "I'm not drinking anywhere near there."

"Yes, the well and outhouse idea was poorly thought out," agreed George, nodding his large bulbous head.

"I'm taking one of those sheepskin water containers," Stanley said. "It may be warm water but it's gotta be better than the water from that well."

There was a subtle change in the air and Diefenbaker, the wolf that came with Constable Fraser, barked even as Lord Greystoke crouched and growled. All of the drones in the immediate vicinity abandoned what they were working on and turned as one toward the new arrivals, scanning them with their laser optics.

One drone seemed to precede the other drones, but the others seemed to follow just behind him as if forming a wave.

"What just happened?" Hoss Cartwright asked.

Rowdy Yates spate into the dirt. "I think those zombies decided that we're a threat after all."

"But Chakotay said we'd be safe at this distance."

Yates' lip curled. "He wouldn't be the first man to make a mistake like that."

"Jim! Look that lead drone!"

"I know, Artie. It's Dr. Miguelito Loveless. He's gotten a bigger body but I'd know that face anywhere," responded Jim West.

"I am Victorious of Borg. This unit has been designated to be the Borg speaker to the Human populous in all communications. You will disarm all weapons and be assimilated."

"Victorious of Borg?" Gordon said to West. "That's Loveless, pure and simple!"

"I'm not sure it's that simple, Artie," he pointed toward the Loveless drone, "and that is by no means pure. Artie, I think our old acquaintance, Dr. Loveless, might actually be a victim of someone else's nefarious scheme."

"Resistance is futile, James West," spoke the newly-titled Victorious of Borg. "You will be assimilated."

Hoss Cartwright stepped forward, his revolver aimed at the progressing Loveless. "What's going on? That's that little devil Loveless. We can take him and free my little brother."

Miles O'Brien placed a cautionary hand on Hoss's shoulder while not taking his eyes off the drones. "You don't understand. If you start shooting. They'll attack us in force."

"This is so wrong," Geordi La Forge said, tricorder in one hand and phaser rifle in the other. "This is not typical Borg behavior."

"Forget the schematics!" Nog yelled. "Everybody get to cover and regroup! We're exposed here!"

The heroes hurried behind their wagons and horses as the drones began to suddenly start firing beams of green light at them.

Geordi La Forge, Matthew Sikes and Festus Haggen were hit by the stunning blasts. The former deputy from Dodge City died instantly as his head hit the sharp edge of a large protruding rock in the ground. La Forge and Sikes were left on the ground unaware of Haggen's fate or they may have envied him.

The wave of drones coming toward the heroes began firing at the riled horses stunning them, causing them to collapse, and forcing the people using the beasts for cover to lay prone in the dirt. Zorro, suddenly exposed as his horse collapsed, threw a knife at a drone, impaling a small male drone in the shoulder causing the drone to stop briefly, examine the wound, and then remove the small weapon will his internal nanites repaired the damage.

Morn grunted as he fired his phaser rifle from beneath one of the wagons. At his side Kenny, the child Immortal, used a more standardized phaser with similar effect. On the other side of Kenny, Marshal Brisco County Jr. was trying to make use of his revolver but transparent squares seemed to appear over the areas he targeted whenever he fired a bullet.

Kenny shouted over the gun firing. "That kind of weapon will only work on them if you are within their shields!"

Just then a Borg phaser barrage split the wooden flatbed wagon in half causing both halves to come crashing down on Kenny. Morn howled and lifted the wagon half that had been over his head and threw it onto the drone that had been approaching the still form of Geordi La Forge. It crushed the drone and caused the two behind it to stumble and fall backwards. Brisco crawled out from underneath his half of the wagon remains even as Morn lifted it up to turn it on its side to use as a shield.

"Kid?" Brisco said. The small form of Kenny was a bloody mess with many lacerations with large splinters sticking out along with the sharp white color of a broken femur bone protruding through his clothes.

"Take it," Kenny said with a crackling voice, pushing his phaser toward Brisco.

"You-you'll be alright," lied Brisco, who felt a lump in his throat.

"Take - phaser. Cold. Don't- don't leave me here," gasped Kenny.

Brisco took the more effective weapon awkwardly and hesitantly. "I'll, uh, I'll-" He stopped when he noticed Kenny's eyes were glazed over and he was no longer breathing.

"Dammit!" Brisco shook his head, then jumped up and fired on the drones before dropping down again. Taking a deep breath, the first thing that he noticed was that Morn was hoisting Kenny's body over one of his shoulders. "Hey, big guy, he's dead. You don't have too-" He stopped when he noticed the harsh look the otherworldly creature gave him. "Okay. We're taking him with us. I'll, uh, I'll try to cover you."

Morn snorted, and hefted his phaser rifle with one hand, firing over Brisco's head, nailing a drone that was only a few feet away.

"Right, then, okay, we'll cover each other than," Brisco amended.

Nearby at the other wagon, Britt Reid a.k.a. the Green Hornet and his crime-fighting partner Kato took shelter with Brett Maverick and Miles O'Brien, who were providing cover with phaser weaponry. The Hornet and Kato both tried their guns to no effect. Maverick soon seemed to have the same problem with the phaser that had been provided for him. "Blast it! This fancy rifle ain't dropping them no more."

O'Brien shouted as he kept firing. "You have to adjust the frequency like we should you. The drones have adjusted to the one that your weapon is currently using."

Brett looked over the weapon for a few seconds before putting it next to O'Brien. "Here. You change the setting. I'm going to send them some old fashioned lead shot for awhile."

He started shooting even as O'Brien began to protest. A drone fired a shot, hitting Maverick's gun, causing it to explode. Brett died instantly from fragments of the gun penetrating his skull all the way to the occipital lobe of his brain. O'Brien received a few metal fragments into his right shoulder, but was otherwise alright.

Tarzan, who had been waiting to pounce on the drones behind one of the stunned horses that had been pulling the wagon, leaped out catching one of the nearest drones in his arms. He twisted the large drone that James West and Artemus Gordon would have recognized as Voltaire, and jerked his prosthetic arm up, catching a nearby drone lethally in the throat. Lifting the Voltaire drone high over his head by the neck with one hand and the other grasping him by the thigh, Tarzan brought the large drone down against his knee resulting in a sickening crack. With an animalistic snarl, the jungle lord pulled out his knife and leapt at other nearby by drones before they could draw a bead on him.

Kato followed Tarzan's example and moved to close contact fighting against the drones. With one hand he knocked away the tubules that the drone meant to inject him, while using his other hand to bring his gun inside the range of the drone's personal force fields. Two well placed lead rounds into an area that the Doctor had before hand pointed out as a vulnerable area had proved to be vital to the drone and it fell to the ground as if it were a puppet that had had its strings cut.

The Green Hornet moved forward firing the phaser rifle that Maverick had discarded, and O'Brien had quickly changed the frequency of the energy discharge, trying desperately to clear an area around Kato and Tarzan as well as the fallen figures of La Forge, Sikes and Haggen.

Suddenly the beams of energy hit ineffectively against the small force shields around the drones. The Hornet tried to adjust the device to make his weapon effective again but he had received no training and instead depowered the weapon.

A drone lunged for the Green Hornet, but the vigilante's reflex helped him to leap back while whacking the drone's tubules away from him futuristic weapon. A sharp pain in his hand told him that he had not been totally successful. As the pain began radiating up his arm, the Hornet dropped the weapon and his body was not obeying its commands. Vaguely, through the pain, he noticed that the drone had attached the tubules to him and was completing the process that the initial nanites had started.

As Tarzan savagely slashed with his knife into the throat of one drone and tossed it's convulsing body into another oncoming drone, he felt a stab into his ankle. With lightning-like reflexes he leaped back away, causing the tubules in his ankle to come out. Glancing back at the source of his pain he saw that the broken drone of Voltaire had not expired but had been repairing itself. Though, it was still unable to walk, as of yet, it had been able to move within reach of the battling Tarzan in order to inject him with drone producing nano-probes.

The lord of the apes tried applying pressure to his leg as to stop the spread of venom, but the evil looking gray tendrils under his muscular skin continued upwards regardless of the pressure. He tried draining the wound using his knife to cut into his flesh, but the metallic veins, cut with extreme effort, merely reconnected after his knife was removed.

Kato, sensing something wrong, saw first that his companion, Britt Reid, had been taken by the Borg, and then Tarzan, who was still trying to fight although his limbs were trying to resist him. The agile Korean martial artist moved through the ranks of drones next to Tarzan who was closer and shot in the back of the skull a bizarre-looking drone that was actually an alien Breen.

"It's-taking over-my-body!" Tarzan managed to say with great effort. Kato waited there to be sure of what to do. "Kill-me!" Tarzan said through clenched teeth.

Kato nodded in understanding and brought up his gun again. However before he could comply with the request he was struck by a stun beam from behind by the Voltaire drone who had managed to turn his prosthetic arm toward Kato. Tarzan, unable to move any longer was overcome from within.

At a nearby water trough built for arriving horses and cattle, the Doctor was hunkered down and holding his hat to his head with his hand. "We've got to get out of here!"

"Loveless seems to be the one orchestrating the others," Jim West said, next to the time-lord. "If I take him out, then the others may become confused and disperse. Giving us a chance to turn this around."

"But-" began the Doctor. But it was too late. James West, a man of action, was already on his feet and firing a path through the drones with his phaser weapon towards Dr. Miguelito Loveless himself.

"But it's the queen who is in charge!" shouted the time-lord. "Dr. Loveless is just her mouthpiece!"

West kicked aside the last drone and began firing at Dr. Loveless in his new larger drone body. But it was to no effect. The Borg had adapted to the frequency of the weapon West was using.

West knocked aside Loveless' prosthetic arm before he could stun him, but he was not fast enough to evade the tubules that implanted themselves into his chest. "Resistance is futile, James West. You will become one with the Borg," said the drone that called himself Victorious.

From the ridge of the hill came a hail of phaser fire meant to provide cover for the survivors of the unfortunate close encounter to get away. Rowdy Yates, Hoss Cartwright and Nog provided cover fire from the hill the best they could allowing Neelix, Morn, Dr. Jones, Brisco County, Jr., George Francisco and Artemus Gordon a chance to run for cover. But as they ran from a fate many considered to be worse than death. Others in their number were stunned to be assimilated. This sad list included Constable Fraser, Miles O'Brien, Zorro, Chakotay and the time-lord known as the Doctor.

**ON THE ROAD TO STOCKTON**

Holding the reigns of the horses pulling the wagon in one hand, Kwai Chang Caine held the canteen to his mouth in the other and took deep swallows of the warm water within it. Beside him sat his friend of many years, John Reid a.k.a. the Lone Ranger, who was telling the story of how he had become the Lone Ranger to Joe Cartwright, who rode a horse next to the wagon, and three irksome men in the back of the wagon, Larry, Moe and Curly. Realizing that if Reid was telling his origins to these new admirers, then Caine had to assume that he was coming to terms with the illness that was killing him.

"But before I buried my brother and fellow rangers, I took the black leather vest of my brother and fashioned a mask to wear."

"That mask?" asked Curly, pointing to the mask that he wore.

The ranger shook his head. "No. I've worn masks so often that I've had to make new ones to replace them after a year or two. But I do keep the original one with me." He pulled out a pouch from a pocket, opening it to reveal a much worn and particularly torn black leather mask.

"Gee," said Larry. "It must have been something to wear a mask and chase down bad guys."

"Yeah," agreed Little Joe. "It must have been rough establishing yourself as a hero while wearing a mask."

"Not really," admitted the Lone Ranger. "Good deeds spread almost as fast as bad deeds. Besides I had Tonto to help me."

"Hey, whatever hap-" began Moe, but he was interpreted.

"I wasn't the first man to become a masked hero. There had been others that preceded me," said the Lone Ranger. "Perhaps you recall the scarecrow of Romney Marsh, the Scarlet Pimpernel, the Daring Dragoon, the Black Arrow, the jungle lord known as the Phantom, and of course the local legend Zorro to name a few."

"I think Zorro's hunting grounds were more over by Los Angeles," said Joe. "And he's probably no longer alive by now."

"Not necessarily," said Caine. "Reports of his activities have covered over a century. This leads me to conclude that he has either discovered a means to eternal youth or the original Zorro has passed on his legacy to a younger generation."

Reid eyed Caine curiously. "Yes, passing on the mask, his legacy to his family is probably what happened. That would also explain the hundreds of years of sightings of the purple suited masked man known as the Phantom on the African coast."

Caine glanced back at the wagon traveling just behind them as the Lone Ranger began to change the subject. Janos' assistant, Huitzilopochtli Ramos, was driving the horses while conversing with Isabeau, the young lady that Joe said he owed his life and freedom to. In the wagon bed behind the rider and female passenger, Caine could see the scientist, Janos Bartok, trying to read papers while being jostled in the wagon. His face conveyed a picture of marvel and captivation. Beside him was a large brown tarp that covered two large round objects that were secured with ropes.

A loud gunshot rang out startling the horses causing Caine to pull on the reigns forcing them to stop. A man struggled to remove himself from some prickly brush he had been hiding in while holding a gun in their direction.

"My, my, look who got out of his cage," said the man, who was carefully watching everyone in both wagons.

"You're not taking us back, Bly!" yelled Joe.

"Relax. I have no intention of taking you back to that imperialistic, egotistical half-pint," responded John Bly. "Loveless and I had a parting of the ways, if you will. So now I find myself having I leave." He began examining the horses. "I had a horse but the stupid thing stepped into a groundhog hole and broke his leg. Had to shoot it."

"It should have broken your neck!"

"Life is just full of surprises. Isabeau. I knew you were falling for that Cartwright boy. I just didn't think you had the guts to cut away from Loveless."

She said nothing and turned her head away in disgust. "Leave her alone, Bly!" said Curly.

"And you three idiots. God, can't I get away from you three anywhere?" Bly said mockingly to Larry, Moe and Curly who looked intimidated by the gun he held. "You keep turning up like a bad penny."

"All right then. Here's what's going to happen. First, Mr. Cartwright is going to toss down his weapons." After that happened he said, "Good. Now get off your high horse."

Joe moved off his horse grumbling to himself. "Great, he's going to kill us with bad puns."

"Now you people in the back wagon. I want you to-"

Caine kicked out, knocking the revolver from Bly's hand. Bly leaped to where his gun fell in the dirt, but a bullet struck it effectively knocking it away. Bly held still knowing that there was a gun aimed at him. Turning while keeping his hands visible, he saw that it was the old man he had ignored holding a gun on him. "Damn. It's always the things you over look."

Joe hurried grabbed his own gun and then came round to grab Bly's weapon just as the Lone Ranger went into a coughing spasm. "Shall we help tie him up?" asked Larry.

"No!" said Joe. He didn't want them botching this. Bly was a dangerous individual. "Caine, would you do the honors?"

Kwai Chang Caine came around with a couple of feet of rope.

"What are you planning to do to me?" Bly asked, eyeing the rope.

"I'd love to string you up in a tree by your neck but my father raised me better than that," answered Joe Cartwright. "We'll pass you on to the sheriff of Stockton."

"Stockton? You can't go there? Are you crazy?" Bly looked at them all. "Isabeau, honey, tell them about Stockton."

The dark-haired beauty looked confused. "I know Loveless had you perform a raid there but other than that I never heard."

Bly blanched. "You gotta be kidding me! Loveless never told you?" When she didn't answer he continued. "Something horrible has happened there! I barely got out of there with my life and I'm telling you any place on Earth is better than Stockton right now!"

"But Stockton has the nearest jail cells," Joe answered. "And if the people of Stockton have a gripe against you, then I'm all the more for taking you there."

**JUST OUTSIDE OF STOCKTON**

They huddled near the TARDIS on the other side of the hill shaken by the stirring events that had just occurred. Rowdy Yates stayed at the top of the hill to make sure that the drones were not pursuing them, but the rest crowded together as if afraid to be alone. Their number had been twenty-five when they had arrived to the outskirts of Stockton; now they were at ten and a deaf wolf.

Artemus Gordon stared at the small rocks near his boots. "My God. My God, they just ran through us like we didn't even matter. Even when we were able to stop some of them they just didn't care and they just kept coming."

"Please. The running commentary is … can you just stop? We were all there," said Dr. Jones.

"Sorry." Gordon sighed. "Well, we shou-" He was suddenly sharply elbowed by Morn who shook his head. "Wha-"

Morn reached over and nudged Nog, who looked up having been deep in his own thoughts. The Lurian moved for him to stand up and Nog after a moments confusion did so.

"Uh, okay," said the nervous young Ferengi. "Alright, we all know what just happened even if we don't know exactly why. Let's determine priorities."

"Wait a minute," Brisco said, stepping to his feet. "Who made you commander and chief."

Morn stood and stared Brisco down which actually took about two seconds longer than the Lurian had figured.

"I'm not saying that I'm the leader," Nog said. "But we have to figure out what to do fast and since I'm the one here with the most knowledge about the Borg I'll led the discussion for now. Everybody all right with that?"

"Sounds reasonable," Det. George Francisco said from where he sat rubbing Diefenbaker's ears; the wolf and the Tenctonese had called a truce for now as they had both lost someone to the Borg.

"Can we undo what has been done to them?" asked Indiana Jones.

"Big Ears was working on freeing one of them things back at the village," said Gordon.

"The name is Nog, Mr. Gordon. And yes it can be done but with the equipment that we have it would have to be during the early stages. Before the drones remove the arm and things like that. We don't have the equipment with us for that kind of reconstruction. We also could only save a few of them. Maybe six or seven."

"How will we chose which ones to save?" asked Neelix.

"You are going to fast, Neelix," said Nog, "First we have to save them."

"Wrong," came a gasping voice. Kenny struggled to sit up from where he had been lying dead. "We have a bigger problem."

"Kenny?" gasped Brisco, who jumped away from where he had been sitting next to the dead body.

"Something wrong, marshal?" Kenny said with a wry smile.

"I'm just not used to dead people sitting up and talking to me."

"Hey, I told you I was over nine hundred years old. How did you think I got that way?" He brushed off some of the wood splinters that still covered his clothes.

"Kenny," Nog interrupted. "You were saying something."

Kenny sighed. "Yeah, as I was coming around I heard some of what you were saying And I got the impression that the Doctor has been taken by the Borg."

Nog nodded. "Yes, he's being converted with the others."

"Then are problem has grown. Once they assimilate the Doctor's mind they'll realize they won't need to build a ship anymore. They'll come for the TARDIS."

"We got another problem," called Yates. "There's a wagon – make that two wagons coming our way and heading straight to town."

"We can't let those poor people go in there," said Neelix.

"I'll go stop and tell them…something," Hoss said, climbing to his feet.

From the mind of CaryComic, a tale telling of where some of our missing Klingon friends may have disappeared to.

NEW YORK CITY, 1977

The man calling himself "Mr. Spender" lit what must have been his third cigarette in as many minutes. He looked at his wristwatch, and saw that it was nearly three o'clock in the morning.

"Funny how everything seems to work in threes. Don't it?"

Spender turned and looked at the well-dressed young black man standing behind him.

"You're late, Mr. Trick."

"Better than being the late Mr. Trick!"

"Come, again?"

"I've had a Slayer doggin' my ass, every night, for the past week. My ex-wife's great-granddaughter, no less! So, I arranged for some back-up, before coming here."

"You mean, him?"

Spender indicated the only other person on the subway platform. A fellow chain-smoker, roughly twenty-one years of age, with spiked, bleached-blonde hair. And, a wardrobe consisting of nothing more than a black vest, brown pants, and green army boots.

"He arrived just before you did. Who's he supposed to be; David Bowie, Junior?"

"Don't let the ensemble fool you. He's already got one Slayer to his credit. Back at the turn of the century!"

"Fine, fine. Whatever. Here's our train."

The duo boarded the last car, which was also the emptiest. And, as the train pulled out, Mr. Trick unlatched the brief case he was carrying. From within, he removed a beige folder almost overflowing with paper.

"What do you have for me?" asked Spender.

"You mean; besides the utmost admiration? Not much. Wolfram and Hart checked all their records. But, they have no record of any vampire or demon answering this description."

He held up the photographic blow-up of an angry-looking being with a walrus moustache; a high-ridged forehead; and a virtual mane of long brown hair.

"What about your other branches?"

"Still workin' on it. But, quite frankly? It's starting to look more and more like he's from way up there. As a matter of fact; I personally think he sort of resembles one of those old 'Star Trek' aliens. The Cling-to's, or whatever? Except, on the show, they had sort-of blue skin and curly hair."

"You watch too much television! What about the other one?"

"Well...?"

Whatever the vampiric informant had been about to say was cut off by the slamming open of the subway car door to their right. Standing there was a young black woman in a trench coat, over a black blouse and matching slacks.

"Patrick Raymond!" she shouted, pointing an accusatory wooden stake at Mr. Trick.

"Oh, shit!" chorused both men.

It was at that moment that the young woman went flying to the other end of the car. Pushed from behind by the hired bodyguard.

" Hello, 'ello, 'ello! What do we have, here?"

The Slayer, who had already jumped back to her feet, scowled at the intruder.

"You been watchin' too many old movies, slimey."

"They were all new releases when I first saw 'em, sweet meat."

Messrs. Trick and Spender used this interchange to slowly position themselves behind the bodyguard. The latter partially turned his head to address them.

"Get lost, you wankers. Now!"

They needed no further urging. In less than a minute, the English vampire and the Slayer were the only ones in the car.

"You gonna pay for buttin' in, suck-head," growled Nikki Wood.

"Then, what you waiting' for love?" replied William the Bloody: "Let's get this party started!"

By the time the train reached its last stop of the night, William had doubled his credit.

**Enjoy!---Carycomic**

e-mail reviews to NOTES

Have I got everybody's attention? I know what I'm doing. Really. There is a master plan at work. I just like to stir things up a lot. It can make for a more interesting story. Maybe even get me some more reviews from my readers. I haven't heard from some of you in a while.

I'm hoping that the next posting will be the last one for BORG ON THE RANGE and then I can move to the final part which will be very interesting indeedy.

Okay. MEN IN BLACK. I had planned on writing a story of the Borg invading the Men In Black universe but I had to cut it. So I've turned it into a cameo. One of my friends is trying his hand at writing and will be writing a prequel to my little cameo that will tell of the Borg invasion there and the Klingons that arrived there through the portal on the holodeck. Should be interesting.

I had a brutal fight scene here but don't give up hope. I have a plan. All is not lost!

Now here's a challenge in two parts:

Who can tell me who the scarecrow of Romney Marsh, the Scarlet Pimpernel, the Daring Dragoon, and the Black Arrow are?

And what other masked or hooded heroes were there before the time of the Lone Ranger.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

1895

STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA

Amidst all the chaos that had occurred, a little joy was found as Hoss Cartwright was suddenly reunited with his formerly captive little brother, Joe who . They each took turns filing each other in on the most recent events and were currently lying in the half-dry grass at the top of the hill looking down on the Borg activity in and around the town of Stockton.

"Hoss, if I wasn't seeing this with my own eyes, I'd swear that you'd taken to telling yarns."

"You mean like the time I told you that I saw leprechauns hiding in the woods."

Joe sighed. "You just can't let it go, can you?" He threw his hands up in mock surrender. "You were right. You saw a bunch of former circus dwarves dressed in green and panning for gold. But they were not leprechauns."

"But they looked like it and they were there."

Joe looked down at the drones through a telescope. "It's hard to believe that those slow moving people are a threat to the world."

"Then you aren't looking through that scope correctly," spoke up Rowdy Yates. The former bounty hunter turned cattle hand had assigned himself watch duty on the hill while the others figured out what to do. He lay low in the grass just a few feet from them. A small stream of tobacco juice could be seen trickling down the hill toward the Borg. "Try looking over at those wagons some of us hid behind."

"What in heavens name did that? They're blasted apart with scorch marks all over the place!"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, Little Joe. These Borg yahoos use weapons that shoot lights so intense that they can…can… well, you've seen down there some of what they can do."

"Little Joe?" inquired a feminine voice. "Why Little Joe?"

Hoss was startled as Isabeau crawled up into the grass next to his brother Joe. Now he had a better understanding of why his brother had asked to borrow his shaving kit to get rid of his beard so quick. "Miss, it's just what we've always called him 'cause he's the youngest and skinniest of us."

Little Joe grinned. "Hoss, this is Isabeau. She freed me and some of the others from the clutches of Dr. Loveless."

"Joe gives me too much credit. I also wanted out of there badly. So with everything that was happening we couldn't have planned for a better opportunity."

"And if she had waited we both probably would have been walking down there with the rest of those poor souls," added Joe.

Hoss shivered at the thought of aiming a rifle at a drone only to realize at the last second that it was his brother. He had heard of that sort of thing happening during the Civil War between the States.

Rowdy Yates interrupted. "If you really want to see what to see what those devils are like then take a gander at the lower right corner of that structure they've been building." Yates spate in distaste. "They're mutilating some of our comrades right now."

Despite knowing that he wouldn't like what he saw, Joe rose to the challenge and looked down the telescope again at where he had been directed. Finding it, his eyes widened. He quickly blanched and threw up.

"That was my father-in-law's arm that they just took off," responded Yates.

Joe moved down the hill a little ways with Isabeau hurrying after.

"You didn't have to do that!" said a livid Hoss.

Yates spate. "It's better that he have an idea of the atrocities that the enemy will do to you. It'll make you fight harder to stay alive."

Hoss said nothing, but he picked up the fallen telescope to see himself. Yes, he admitted to himself, Joe would fight harder to survive after seeing what he was seeing. Hoss would too.

On the far side of the hill away from Stockton two wagons were just off the road near a British telephone box which was very out of place in this location. On one of the wagons sat John Bly tied up tighter than he wished, which meant that he was stuck at least for now. Nearby sat the Lone Ranger and Kwai Chang Caine keeping vigil over the notorious bandit at Marshal Brisco County Jr.'s request.

John Reid – alias the Lone Ranger – took precise care as he loaded each of the silver bullets into his newly cleaned weapon.

"What?" said Bly in disbelief, "Do you think you are facing werewolves? Those won't work on those things in Stockton."

"You'd be surprised at the things I've faced in the wilderness," answered the solemn man. "But these aren't meant for the things in that town."

"John," said Caine. "There is an entirely different battle about to take place here. Everyone is needed. Your vengeance must wait."

"But he must die at my hand! I insist on that!"

"He is needed," repeated the Shaolin monk. "I have looked into what they have said about these beings called the Borg. Their potential for destruction is greater than we can conceive. We must all unite to face them. If we survive, then it may prove possible for you to face him."

"It is justice I am after!" He coughed blood briefly into his handkerchief. "If I wait until after this battle, then either he or I may be dead. How then would justice be served?"

Caine shook his head. "Regardless, he is needed. You know this."

"I'll kill him for you," Bly said. "Just let me go and tell me who he is."

The Lone Ranger aimed his loaded weapon at Bly who stiffened slightly. "Be quiet," said the masked man.

Bly wanted to say a lot of things but for now he waited. The right opportunity would come along. He just had to be ready for it.

"Excuse me," came a quiet respectful voice.

The Lone Ranger almost turned and fired on reflex but restrained the impulse. Coughing slightly he turned to address the man in the fedora hat. "Yes."

"Ah, well," began Indiana Jones, "I'm an archeologist which also makes me something of a historian. And, well, could I talk to you for a while."

Caine stood up. "I will make some tea." If anything was sure to calm down his friend's rage, it would be telling stories to a fan

Huitzilopochtli Ramos and Janos Bartok stepped into the TARDIS enraptured as if they stood in a holy place.

"I told you, yes," said Ramos. After getting an earlier glance inside the strange blue box, Ramos had convinced Bartok to leave the documents of Dr. Loveless as well as the two golden orbs under the supervision of Larry, Moe and Curly with the strict instructions to not let anyone go near the wagon and disturb it's contents.

"You! What are you doing here?" came an angry outcry.

Ramos and Bartok turned in surprise to the group that had been conversing at the console of the TARDIS. There faces were a mixture of fear, anger and general confusion. "Pardon?" Janos said. "We didn't mean to intrude. We were just fascinated by-"

"Q, have you come to help us or hinder us?" Nog said, baring his teeth. The large figure of Morn stood at the Ferengi's side but seemed rather nervous.

Janos Bartok, having never encountered physical specimens like this, marveled at them, but was distracted enough by the strange greeting to focus. "I'd like to help," he answered hesitantly.

Brisco was confused. "What's going on?"

"That man," George Francisco pointed at Janos Bartok, "is the being with the miraculous abilities that brought my friend's and I here."

Janos was amazed and clearly confused. "What? Is this some type of game or mass hysteria?"

"Hold everything!" Kenny, the child-sized Immortal stepped forward. "I realize that when we briefly met this new group that this man had had a thick beard." Janos reflexively reached for his now absent whiskers which he had grown during his stay as a captive of Dr. Loveless. Both he and his assistant Ramos had followed Joe Cartwright's example of shaving with Hoss's razor at their earliest opportunity never expecting results like this. "And now that he is shaven," continued Kenny, "he looks exactly like our probmatic Q, but do you really think that the self-proclaimed all-powerful Q would allow a shaving cut on his face?"

The others pondered this while Janos felt at his slightly bleeding chin. "Damn. Every time, too. I really should invent a means for a man to shave in a manner that does not make it resemble to bloody offering."

"So you aren't Q?" asked Neelix hesitantly.

"I'm not even sure what that means," Janos said with growing frustration.

"Tell us," Ramos said, as he dabbed at his friend's chin with a saliva moistened handkerchief. "Who is this man named Q?"

"Have you ever seen Shakespeare's play 'A Midsummer's Nights Dream'?" asked the Immortal child.

Janos seemed confused by the question. "I've read it."

"Well imagine someone many more times powerful than all of the Immortals mentioned there, but even more rascally than Puck."

"It-it boggles the imagination."

"So does Q."

"It is also Interesting," commented Nog, "that many of the previous teams that have fought the Borg on divergent versions of our Earth have also encountered other people that resembled people that they either knew of or met." He stepped over to the marshal. "Take, for example, Marshal County here. He's an exact copy of the man that the group that went to ancient Greece met."

"Copy?" Brisco exclaimed. "Hey! I'm an original! Anyone else out there that looks like me is the copy. And a handsome one at that."

Morn chuckled at that and Diefenbaker barked twice.

Kenny shook his head. "This is getting us nowhere. Q or no Q, we still have to stop the Borg." He turned to the small metal replica of a dog on the floor. "K-9, listen carefully. You are not to follow any orders from the Doctor until I say so. Is that clear? Do you understand?"

"The Doctor is the master of this unit. K-9 must obey the Doctor."

"It talks!" exclaimed Ramos. Janos shushed him as Kenny continued.

"K-9, the Doctor has been taken over by the Borg. He is not in control of himself anymore. Do you understand?" He was starting to sound frantic but he had to make sure that the Borg did not access to the TARDIS.

"K-9 must obey the Doctor," said the little machine.

"Damn it!" responded Kenny.

"It was a good try said George.

"Yeah? Well, I-"

"Incoming message from the Doctor," spoke K-9.

"Disengage! Do not accept the message!" shouted Kenny.

Despite Kenny's insistence, the small robot dog's satellite ears and antenna tail continued to move. "Accepting new coordinates for TAR-"

The youthful looking Immortal's machete was out and had sliced through the ears and tail of the robot before it could continue. Kenny followed through with a neck chop that partially decapitated the small robot. Diefenbaker whined and ran through the door of the TARDIS while the others just stood and stared.

The electrical backlash had knocked Kenny backwards and into the console. Though he was burnt and injured. He just cried as his wounds started healing. Meanwhile Morn inspected the remains of K-9 to make sure that it was no longer functioning.

"I don't mean to interrupt but what do we do now?" asked Neelix.

"We prepare for the worst," Nog said with hard, experience eyes that were beyond his age. "The Borg have attempted to obtain the TARDIS one way. Now they'll try another."

"You are just so full of good information, aren't you?" Brisco answered sardonically.

"He's right," Gordon said. "We just had a horrible defeat at their hands. They took many of our friends from us. We have to shake it off and be ready."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Ramos said, "but I think we are already under attack." He pointed to one of the monitors that displayed what was happening outside the TARDIS. They could see Rowdy and the Cartwright brothers firing phasers at a large number of drones approaching from the woods on the other side of the hill.

"They circled around us," Gordon stated.

"Yes," agreed Nog. "They made sure that we could see a large number of drones working around the town and Borg structure while sending another group around behind us."

"That's probably Loveless' contribution to the Borg collective," snapped Gordon.

"Well we better get our minds together if we are going to survive this," replied the Ferengi.

DEEP SPACE NINE

CUURRENTLY ORBITING EARTH

"Commander Chakotay, Lt. Commander La Forge and Chief O'Brien have all been converted to Borg drones," Data reported. He had turned off his emotion chip because he would not be able to function properly otherwise. Still, he did have a – was it regret? Or sadness? With the emotion chip turned off he shouldn't feel anything. But there was something. Was his positronic brain learning to emulate the functions of the emotion chip? He decided to run a diagnostic on himself later to determine what the effects were that he was going through.

Across from him, Picard hit the table with his fist. "My God! Geordi and Miles!"

Janeway glanced around but Q was not to be found. "Q! This is no time to be hiding!"

"Oh, but it is," answered Guinin who was just coming into the bar. She had just had a stern talk with Odo about an alien intoxicant and it had left her wanting a stiff drink. "Q and his ilk don't like hanging around when things go bad. I should say when something affects them. There's just something about real responsibility that just doesn't sit well with them."

"Meanwhile, we have a problem," said Sisko. "And only Morn, Nog and Neelix to face the Borg."

Guinin stifled a yawn. "That's not true. Did you forget about Dax?"

Sisko stiffened. On a lark, the second Q entity had taken the Dax symbiote from Ezri and had placed it inside Nog. But how that mixture was working was anyones guess. Meanwhile, Ezri was being held in stasis in Sickbay as a means to prolong her life since she could no longer live without the symbiote. "No, I did not forget about Dax. We've had a friendship for a long time now. Through three of his hosts. Perhaps now if you count Nog. I just don't know how well he is able to function inside a Ferengi."

"I'm sure that Q2 made Dax able to function as well as he always did with his other hosts," Guinin said. "Also Morn is a better fighter once his back is against a wall. It brings out the flratcat in him. As for Neelix, from what I've learned from his friends, he has survived more hairy situations than even you, Jean-Luc."

"Okay Guinin. Message received. We won't give up on them yet," Picard said with a trace of a smile.

"You know," came a quiet voice from behind them, "if you want to try help them, why not use that portal viewing thingy that they made up on the holo-deck?" It was Admiral McCoy who had woken from his nap.

Janeway sighed. "I've already had Seven of Nine try that. She said there was a parental block on it that wasn't going to let us access it."

"Then think of something else!" snapped McCoy.

Just then a little blue man in white pants and a white hat raced across the floor.

Sisko sighed, but didn't return the quizzical looks the others were giving him. "Sisko to Odo."

"Yes, captain," came the disembodied voice of the Changeling chief of security.

"Are you aware that some of your little blue men are running around the station?"

"I'm on it," answered Odo. "But I think it may be two of the Smurfs that came along to make sure that their brethren were going to be treated alright. If it's the one named Handy then it should be fine. But if it's the one called Jokey, then watch out for small wrapped presents."

"Why? What's wrong with a present? Is it a cultural thing?" Sisko glanced around just in time to see the little blue man giving a small box to Leeta, who was bending down to talk to him.

"Wait! Stop!" He leaped over a chair and grabbed the small package just as it exploded. It was loud and he was covered in soot but was otherwise undamaged.

A small little voice could be heard laughing in the background. "Ha ha ha ha ha! That's funny!"

"Sir?" asked Odo's voice through the comm system. "Did I just hear an explosion?"

"Odo, put Jokey in the brig until his clan are ready to go home, please."

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Okay, I said this would be the last chapter but I was wrong. But I am so close! I just couldn't wait to get some feedback. As for the rest, well, I have most of it written up on scraps of paper here and there. I just have to put it together and type it up.

Don't worry. K-9 is fixable. I love that little guy and would never do anything permanent to him. It's everyone else you need to worry about.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

(The first part of this story is from Carycomic as part of my challenge for people to come up with places for where the dimensionally flung Klingon could have ended up. Hope you like it and give Carycomic just praise for a job well done. I loved the mixing of themes.)

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (1977)

Professor Albus Dumbledore had seen and done a lot in his time. So, he was considered pretty unflappable, as a rule. But, what he saw right now proved even that rule had an exception.

"How did you come by them, Hagrid?"

"Well, y'see, sir. It were like this. Professor Kettleburn asked me to substitute for him whilst he was away at that American magical school. So, I took the first-years on a glass-bottom boat tour of the lake, so's they could catch a glimpse of real-live merfolk and grindylows. Then, just as we were about to dock, at the end o' class, there's this big thunderclap. Followed by this big portal openin' in mid-air. And, lo n' behold, these two falls outta it and into the shallows. Ker-splash!"

"Most extraordinary!" replied Dumbledore: "We shall have to notify the Ministry of Magic about them. But, first, we should have Pompey tend to their medical needs. If you would be so kind, Hagrid?"

"Certainly, sir!" replied the amiable half-giant. Whereupon, he carried the two strangers up the hill, slung over each of his massive shoulders in a fireman's carry.

LONDON HOUSE (SIX HOURS LATER)

Roger Wyndham-Price, Ruling Precept of the Legacy, made the introductions as his three guests sat down before his desk, in his private study.

"To my left is Quentin Travers; my newly-appointed successor as Chairman of the Watchers' Council. To my right is Robert McCall; CIA/Legacy liaison. And, before me? Professor Bernard Quatermass; scientific advisor to the Ministry of Defense."

"Quatermass?" echoed McCall: "The same one who worked with London House on that Hobbs' End business?"

The bushy-bearded scientist smiled and nodded.

"Right, then," said Wyndham-Price: "To the matter at hand. Quentin? What do you make of the long-haired chap?"

"Well, despite wearing a breastplate similar to the Three, he's definitely not a vampire of the Aurelian Order. Or, any other known subspecies of bloodsucker, for that matter!"

"McCall! Could he be a member of the Order of Teraka, bio-genetically altered by the Soviets?"

"Perhaps. But, favorite customer or not, the KGB would probably have to pay twice the going rate before one of that lot would volunteer to be a guinea pig."

"Keep digging. Professor? What of the robotic-looking one?"

"Your friends at the M.O.M. were quite right to bring him to our attention. Definitely a cybernetic organism of some kind! Any further analysis, however, will require facilities more advanced than mine. That's why I took the liberty of contacting the American branch of UNIT. To see if I could get access to that hush-hush lab of theirs in the Nevada desert."

"And, their response, if any?"

"They're sending one of their operatives--a Thomas Remington Sloan III---to meet with me."

"I've heard of him," said McCall: "Very sharp! You should probably consider him on a 'need-to-know' basis, right off the bat."

Just then, the clock on the mantle of the study's fireplace chimed four times.

"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Wyndham-Price: "Tea time, already? Brief adjournment, gentlemen."

The preceding is just to show how the Klingon and the Borg came to Cancer Man's attention, in the first place. I don't intend to do a full-fledged story arc around it, as I have a plate load of stories I'm already working on at another fanfic site. So, thanks again, guy.

From Carycomic

INSIDE THE TARDIS

LOCATED AT STOCKTON, CALIFORNIA

"I've got a reading!" exclaimed Neelix, holding up his tricorder.

"What?" responded Kenny, not knowing what to expect anymore.

"It's an energy signature! Like the one used by that Sliders group as they moved from parallel world to parallel world!"

"The Borgs are sliding again?" Nog speculated out loud. "Can they slide into the TARDIS?" he asked Kenny.

"I-I don't know," admitted Kenny. "I don't think so but I'm new at traveling with the Doctor."

"I don't think that they are coming here," said Neelix. "But wherever they are going it's sure using a lot of energy to get there."

Nog glanced at some of the various equipment in the TARDIS. "If it's part of the Borg agenda, then we have to stop it." He thought he knew what some of the controls did but many were a mystery to him. He pulled a few that he thought he understood and hoped for the best.

"It stopped," Neelix said. "I guess you succeeded."

"I think we are blocking the signal now." He checked a few readouts to confirm. "Yes, we did. But that doesn't mean that some of the Borg didn't already get through to wherever they were trying to send them."

"We'll have to worry about that later," Kenny pointed out. "The others need us outside." Upon leaving the TARDIS, they were in the midst of a battle against the Borg.

On the hill, the defenders struggled to get down amidst a hail of Borg phaser fire. The larger man, Hoss Cartwright, was stunned and rolled down the hill a ways. His brother, Joe, hurried to him but was unable to lift his much larger sibling, so he started dragging him down the hill by a leg until he was also stunned.

Isabeau had already reached the bottom of the hill when she realized what had happened to the Cartwright brothers. She moved to go to their aid but was stopped by Rowdy Yates who pulled her to the cover of one of the wagons.

George Francisco and Morn were trying to shoot down the drones coming toward them from the woods while Brisco and the Lone Ranger shot at the drones coming down the road which went around the hill to Stockton.

"Hey, old man. That kind of weapon won't work on them," Brisco shouted as he changed the frequency of the phaser he had been taught to handle.

The Lone Ranger grinned. "I talked to that fellow Morn about that. They don't have anymore of those light shooting weapons you have. But he did mention that some people had some luck using regular projectile weapons when they aren't directly aimed at the Borg."

Brisco paused. "Not directly aimed at them?"

"Like this." The Lone Ranger took a shot, bouncing the bullet of a large boulder that had been moved to the side of the road. The ricocheting bullet lodged itself in the chest of a drone, causing it to spark briefly before falling down dead.

"Hey that's good shooting!" Brisco commented. "Hey! You really are the Lone Ranger, aren't you?"

"That-I-am," he said, shooting a round for each word and bringing down a drone each time. He coughed briefly and he took a moment to duck down and reload.

"Are those really silver bullets? Talk about throwing your money around."

"Riches mean nothing to me. True rewards come from helping the innocent and stopping injustices when you can."

Brisco fired off another volley of shots. "You must be a lot of fun at parties."

An alien curse was heard in back of them. Turning Brisco saw George trying to call back the wolf, Diefenbaker, who had charged out onto the field of battle towards the oncoming drones. "Diefenbaker! Diefenbaker!"

"Forget the mutt," shouted Brisco as he pulled George down. "Somebody should have trained it better."

"He's a wolf. He's also deaf."

"If he's deaf, then why are you shouting to him?"

"Because I want to shout!"

Brisco accepted that and resumed shooting but even that proved ineffective. "Nuts, those things adapt to fast. I have to change the frequency on this thing again."

"Oh no!" he heard George say.

"What now?" Brisco turned. The wolf was barking and whining in front of one of the oncoming drones. A drone whose face they could now see to be belonging to Constable Benton Fraser. Walking just a little behind him was George's partner and friend Det. Matthew Sikes who had also been converted into a drone.

"Watch out!" George shouted. "We have friends out there!"

"No!" Nog yelled as he hurried over while keeping his head down. "Those aren't your friends out there anymore! Right now what's in control of them wants to make you just like them. And if they can't, then they'll kill you. Believe me your friends would rather be dead then go through what they are going through right now."

George looked angry. But Brisco nodded. "Yeah, I've had nightmares about things like this trying to get me. It's no fun seeing it in real life."

"We'll try and stun them for now," Nog consented. "But I have to be honest with you, we'll be lucky to save ourselves right now. Anything extra we do jeopardizes everything we are trying to prevent."

Diefenbaker had now grabbed the prosthetic limb with his teeth and was pulling on it, whether to take off the unfamiliar thing or to try gain the attention of the man under the influence of the Borg was unknown. The limb did spark briefly with electricity surprising the wolf who leaped away with a startled yip. Running away with quick looks behind him, Diefenbaker hurried down the road unhindered by the Borg

Dr. Indiana Jones hurried over to where the others had stationed themselves. "Hey, I had a thought. Perhaps mirrors could reflect the light beam weapons," he asked Nog, while holding up a small delicately crafted handheld mirror in his hand.

"Good concept," admitted Nog. "But mirrors aren't strong enough to work. The materials are too impure."

"Is there a way to drain their power?" Jones asked. "Or block their communication?"

The young Ferengi shook his head in frustration as he fired at a drone of a young teenager. He missed but clipped it's neighbor in the weapon limb causing it to short circuit in spasms and knock over three of it's closest fellow drones as it fell. "Listen, I don't have time to bring you up to date on 24th century technology or Borg physiology. Right now just do as I say and do, okay?"

Kwai Chang Caine hurriedly brought over the tied up villain John Bly. "Let me go! This is crazy! We have to leave!"

Nog grabbed Bly by the throat and held him still. "If we let you go and you run, then they will shoot you down! Do you hear what I am saying?"

Bly blinked as he stared at Nog. "What in hell are you? An alien? On Earth in this time period?"

Nog grimaced and shook his head. "Great! Another time traveler!"

"Another?" Bly responded in surprise.

"You didn't think that you were the only time traveler in all this, did you," Brisco shouted over his shoulder.

"Brisco County, Jr.," John Bly's eyes narrowed. "With a mess this big I should have expected to see you here."

"I vote we send Bly to the Borg," Brisco said. "Maybe they'll choke on him."

Morn raised a hand in agreement, turned to say something, but was struck in the back by a Borg stun beam. Nog tried to catch the Lurian but Morn was just too big so he had to settle for easing him to the ground. George was stunned trying to help and fell next to Morn.

Artemus Gordon, seeing the trouble hurried over from where he had been taking cover, but was too late to help with Morn or George. "Hey! What's that Chinaman doing?"

Caine had seen something that the others hadn't during their conversations. The fallen figure of Isabeau had been overlooked during the shootout with the Borg. She had been stunned just a few yards from protection and now the drones were closing in on her.

Using an old thrown away cattle yoke, Caine jumped forward and struck the approaching drone on the forehead, following through with bending down and catching the next drone behind the leg causing it to fall into the next drone. Another drone with tubules extended, intending to incorporate the Shaolin monk into the Collective, when the tubules were suddenly struck and wrapped in the end of a whip.

"Sorry," said Dr. Jones. "But I think that he prefers himself the way that he is already."

The drone responded by raising it's weapon limb and shooting Indiana Jones. Gordon, in retaliation, shot the drone.

"That was an old woman!" yelled the Lone Ranger.

"It was a drone!" yelled back the retired secret service agent. "Besides, I put this thing on the lowest setting that Morn said would still be effective on these things, so most likely she's just stunned for now! Besides I don't think I could knowingly kill a little old lady."

John Reid tightened his grip on his revolver but turned and shot at the drone that was aiming at the whip-yielding archeologist only to have the bullet be deflected. The drone stunned Jones who had tried dodging too late. Caine, who now had Isabeau in his arms, managed to kick the drone over on its side, but was otherwise forced to leave Jones behind.

"Somebody cover me!" Gordon shouted, racing out to try save Jones from the fate that had already occurred to many of his friends. The Lone Ranger fell in a coughing fit, managing to barely bring up his partially bloody handkerchief to his mouth.

"Free me, old man!" shouted Bly.

The Lone Ranger looked around. The Borg almost had them encircled. There was no way anyone would be able to run clear in time. With great effort, the one time ranger John Reid managed to get behind the outlaw Bly and cut off the ropes binding him. "Don't make me regret this."

"Thanks, old man," Bly said, as he massaged his wrists. Noting that no one else had seen what the ranger had done he made a move for the ranger's gun but Reid was quicker.

"I said 'don't make me regret this,' and I meant it." But then he doubled over in a coughing spasm in which he splattered the ground with blood.

Bly took advantage of the situation and quickly wrestled the gun away. "Stupid old man." He was about to shoot the coughing ranger in the head when he was suddenly shot from behind.

Brisco, still ducking down from the Borg, took a moment to look at the steaming hole in John Bly's corpse. "That's for killing my father, you bastard!"

The Lone Ranger nodded in gratitude, picked up his gun, and looked over in time to see two drones assimilating Dr. Indiana Jones and Artemus Gordon. "I-I've failed."

"We've got to retreat!" shouted Nog, catching everyones attention.

"How?" asked Caine, who still carried Isabeau. "And to where?"

Nog glanced back at the TARDIS where Huitzilopochtli Ramos and Janos Bartok stood at the door waving for them to come. In a few more minutes retreat would be impossible. "To the TARDIS!" responded Nog, pointing.

"The box?" said a bewildered Caine.

"Trust me," said Nog. "I'll cover everyone."

"I will too," spoke up the Lone Ranger.

Nog, recognizing that the man was dying with probably a month or two to live, nodded in agreement. "Now everybody else move!"

"But what about George and Morn. How will-"

"I said move!" Nog turned to fire at drones that were so close he could throw a heavy stone and hit them if he wanted too. Instead, he got to exchange phaser fire.

Caine had managed to make it to the very entrance of the TARDIS before a stun blast struck him. Neelix leaped out and caught Isabeau before she struck the ground. Ramos and Bartok each grabbed one of Caine's limbs and dragged him into the temporal structure. That was when Nog noticed the three idiots, Larry, Moe and Curly, hiding in the second wagon. But it was too late to help them. Kenny shouted for Nog and the Lone Ranger to make a run for it but Nog couldn't hear him very clearly. A growing thunder approached causing the young Ferengi to look up at the clear sky briefly. "What is that?" he shouted to John Reid.

"You must not get out of the city much wherever you come from, stranger," the Lone Ranger responded. "That's a stampede."

Nog tried remembering what animals Earth had that would stampede. Kangaroos? Lemmings? Elephants? Rabbits? "What's doing that?"

"Cattle," hollered the Lone Ranger in reply. "Brace yourself. This could be-" He went into another coughing fit, but Nog had figured out the jist of what he had meant and pulled himself and the Lone Ranger close to the bed of the wagon.

The drones turned on the cattle that were already charging amongst them, as they were driven along by a very busy barking wolf that weaved among the hooves biting at flanks and tails as a means to steer the herd. The Borg fired repeatedly but the cattle were everywhere. One drone being gored into the ground injected nanites into the bull in order to stop it from charging at any other drones. Stunning the beasts proved to impede the drones as the large bodies began piling up everywhere leaving no clear path for the drones, thus they began to disintegrate the cattle out of existence. The cattle, somehow sensing a change began to scatter every which way which left Diefenbaker with nothing else to use. The wolf ducked out of sight to wait for another chance to cause mischief. Over a quarter of the drones had been knocked down – either killed outright or damaged to a degree that they could not proceed.

Nog, thinking to use the distraction to get himself and the Lone Ranger to the TARDIS, put down his weapon and began to pick up the tall, thin man, just as a drone came behind him. Reacting quickly, the Ferengi grabbed the nearest weapon, which turned out to be one of the Lone Ranger's revolvers, turned and put it against the drone's ribs before firing even as the tubules of the reached for him.

Nog stared in shock, suddenly aware that the collapsing drone had been Chakotay. He was even more horrified that the tubules had stayed connected and continued pumping the cybernetic nanites into him. With effort, he managed to pull the tubules out of his arm and stagger out into the open just as some of the remaining cattle charged by the wagon. He was struck hard, thrown against the wagon, then fell to the ground and was trodden under the hooves of the frightened beasts.

The Borg, now free of the cattle, were uninterested in Nog as he lay gasping in the dirt with the nanites spreading through his system. A few drones stopped to collect vital equipment for replacement drones from their dead. In this new location, cut off from the rest of the Borg from their home universe, they could not afford to waste any hard to come by recourses, thus they would recycle everything that they could to make the transition to self-sufficiency. Three drones turned to the nearby wagon to use it to transport salvaged components.

"They're coming over here now!" whispered Larry, to his two friends that were hiding in the wagon with him.

Curly bit his knuckles. "What do we do?"

Moe grimaced. "We were told to keep everyone away from here. They are counting on us to keep these orbs and Loveless' notes safe. We can't let them down."

"Even if it means going against-" He tried pointing towards the drones but his hands shook too badly.

Moe slapped him sharply across the face. "Especially them," he said with a threatening tone, daring the other man to argue further.

The three men ducked down to quickly scavenge around for something with which to fight.

As the first drone came to the rear of the wagon, Larry jumped up and threw a handful of black peppers into the drone's face. As soon as he had accomplished his task he regretted it as he recognized the towering drone as the burly Voltaire, the large personal body guard of Dr. Loveless.

The drone was only momentarily distressed by the substance in it's remaining Human eye, but it was quickly neutralized and turned to deal with its attacker.

Nearby, Moe jumped up and put a half-full pail of nails over a drone's head and began pounding down on it with a board.

Curly, not to be outdone, turned to the third drone and attempted to jam two fingers in the drone's eyes. Seeing only one eye available, he made the correction and jabbed the eye to no effect. The drone in question was Geordi La Forge. "Moe! I gotta problem! This guy isn't cooperatin'!"

"Moe! I have a problem, too!" shrieked Larry.

"Can't you two do anything-" Moe sighted Larry's problem and instantly recognized Voltaire through all the Borg paraphernalia. "Wowzers!" He backed up toward Curly who was struggling with the La Forge drone. The La Forge drone managed to fire a shot with his weapon appendage striking Moe directly in the pants. "Yeow!" Moe flew forward and straight into the Voltaire drone, tackling the large drone to the ground.

Larry, free from his drone opponent, grabbed the tarp and threw it over the drone Moe had been facing just as it had managed to get the pail of nails off its head. "That covers you, pinhead," laughed Larry. Thus he was unprepared when the tubules came out and struck him in the chest. "Hey! Stop that! Ow! That hurts!"

To the surprise of the drone, the tubules were unable to penetrate the man's skin. Even more surprising was when a ticked off Larry grabbed the wiggling tubules and began trying to tie them in knots.

Meanwhile, Curly was weaving back and forth as quickly as he could while the La Forge drone tried shooting him. "Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo! Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo!" Shots that did hit the rotund man were not effective except to cause the man pain.

"Hey, Curly! They're after the orbs!" shouted Moe, who was struggling with Voltaire who was also having similar problems injecting his captive with the nano-probes. Moe retaliated by pulling tubes out of the large drone's neck resulting in a seizer like attack.

Curly, no longer being shot at as the La Forge drone was now trying to analyze the large golden orbs that had been under the tarp Larry had removed, was livid. "You want this?" he shouted, riled up now. "Here ya go!" He lifted one of the large golden orbs over his head and brought it down in an arc toward the La Forge drone which raised it's prosthetic limb to meet the orb.

Upon contact everything became white and silent.

Inside the TARDIS, Kenny, Janos and Ramos were trying to figure out how to get the time and dimensional traveling machine moving to and place or time than this.

"Uh, guys?" came Brisco's voice from where he and Neelix had been trying to rouse Isabeau and Caine.

"What now?" groaned Kenny.

The Borg had been busily scanning the exterior of the TARDIS while trying various beams of energy at it with mixed success.

"Your monitoring devices seemed to have failed," answered the marshal, pointing to where he had been keeping an eye on the Borg activities.

"Damn, now we don't know what they are doing," muttered the child-sized Immortal.

Janos scratched his chin. "They must have-"

But as they watched, the whiteness of the screen began to fade and everything was different.

"How did…What could have…?" But Brisco couldn't find the words.

"It could be a trick," pointed out Kenny. "Maybe they somehow tapped into the TARDIS's surveillance system and gave us this image to confuse us."

On the monitor where they had once been able to see scores of drones attempting to gain entry to the TARDIS, all of the people were now naked and lying on the ground – whole and evidently alive since some appeared to be stirring.

"But what happened?" asked a very perplexed Janos.

"Who cares as long as it's over," grinned Neelix. "I'm going out there to help. There's going to be some seriously confused people out there in a little bit."

Opening the door with the help of a reluctant Kenny, the Talaxian almost had some difficulty in not stepping on some of the people just outside the TARDIS.

Diefenbaker rushed past the TARDIS and hurried through the mass of naked forms until finding the right one which he began to like the face of enthusiastically.

"What?" Fraser sat up, startled at the sudden tongue bath from the wolf. Blinking, he looked around in growing puzzlement and some embarrassment.

"Can you tell me what you remember happening?" asked Neelix, while offering him a hand up.

"I-I don't seem to remember much," he said, looking puzzled at the Talaxian. "Why am I naked? What happened to me?"

"You were assimilated by the Borg. And now you aren't. Don't you have any idea what happened?"

The naked Canadian Montie looked totally bewildered. "Do you?"

Nearby, a few people were realizing that that they were naked in a very public location. After a few moments perplexity, they all attempted grabbing nearby leaves, brush, or whatever else they could find to provide some sort of cover for modesty.

"Hey! I can see!" exclaimed Geordi. The naked Starfleet officer sat in the tall grass next to the wooden wagon he had been attacking moments before as a drone.

"Yeah, so?" Moe said, looking over at La Forge.

"So?" Geordi laughed. "That means I don't have my implants any more. I actually have organic eyes that work like they should. It also means no more headaches. I won't be able to see electromagnetic, infrared, or any other wavelengths, true, but I'll be able to see everything that everything else does."

Curly leaned over to whisper to Moe. "I think he's touched in the head."

Moe frowned. "I'll touch you in the head!" He brought down his fist on the other man's head.

"Ohhhhhh!" Moe held his head. "Why you-!"

"Why me what?" snarled the man with the bowl cut.

"Er, nothin'."

A man screaming drew all their attention. "Nooooo!" The small twisted form of Dr. Miguelito Loveless stood on the dirt road in the naked flesh with his fists raised to the sky. "You wretches! You have taken away my immortality! My genius - my intellect – was meshed with the brilliant scientists from hundreds of worlds and now it is all gone! All is for naught!"

"Couldn't have happened to a better guy," mocked Curly.

"That'll teach him," added Larry.

"That's the way the way the cookie crumbles, ya crumb!" laughed Moe.

The face of Loveless turned to one of outrageous anger. "Voltaire!"

The wooden wagon that the three men stood on was suddenly grasped from behind the three former stooges of Dr. Loveless and pushed up and over on it's side by the loyal Voltaire, causing the men and the remaining golden orb to spill out onto the hard ground. Geordi La Forge and the other former drone near the wagon leaped out of the way barely in time.

Loveless, meanwhile, used the distraction to rush over and pick up Nog's phaser where it had laid out in the open on the ground.

Voltaire was about to go to stand next to his master when one of the naked figures that had been lying about suddenly leapt over the wagon and pounced on the large man. Tarzan's attack came so quickly and with such ferocity that the giant bodyguard of Dr. Loveless found himself helpless. Holding Voltaire effortlessly, the jungle lord growled his determination causing the captive man to lose bladder control, which did not bother Tarzan as he had often grappled with prey that reacted similarly in his grasp.

An unclothed James West stepped down the road while other confused naked people scampered away. "You can't win, Loveless."

"I've got him covered over here, Jim!" shouted Jim's long-time partner Artemis Gordon, who was holding a cluster of scrawny wildflowers and grass in front of his groin for a semblance of modesty.

Dr. Loveless grimaced. "No, I'm not going anywhere, Agent James West." He aimed the phaser at the unprotected man. "But with this futuristic weapon, I'm sending you straight to hell!"

A shot rang out startling everyone. Loveless looked down and stared with dawning comprehension at the growing red spot on his chest. The phaser fell from his nerveless fingers. "Alas, such a tragedy." He gasped. "That someone of my brilliance should be snuffed out when there was so much that I could have done with the world under my control." He collapsed onto the ground and was dead.

"Egotistical to the last breathe, eh, Jim?" Gordon commented.

"Artie, we seem to have another problem."

Gordon glanced to where his longtime friend indicated. The Lone Ranger had his smoking gun aimed directly at him.

"It was you that got Tonto killed!" shouted the masked man. He coughed carefully into his handkerchief. "Your actions, Artemis Gordon, killed the best friend I ever had and I am here today to avenge him!" He was propped carefully next to the other wagon with a clear view of most of the players on the field. Brisco and Neelix both had weapons but were on the far side of Gordon. With all the naked people now running for cover, any move they made could be clearly seen. They had to wait and see how things went for now. "You dressed up as an Indian while looking for information. The thugs that came to kill the 'inquisitive Indian' in town found Tonto who was in town getting our supplies."

"Artie?" West raised the unasked question of who was this and what the hell was going on here.

"He arrived with a later group which also had Joe Cartwright in it who had escaped from Dr. Loveless here. He claims to be the Lone Ranger."

"He is the Lone Ranger," came a new voice, causing heads to turn. Britt Reid walked down the road in his birthday suit and looked hard at the masked man who gasped at the sight of him.

"You- you look like my brother, Dan!" said the shocked ranger. "But he's dead! I buried him myself!"

"I was brought here from the future to fight the Borg by the time traveler known as the Doctor. My grandfather was your brother. My father is Dan Reid, Jr., who you know as your nephew. At this time he is being raised to a woman in Michigan who had found him and took him in as her own." He stopped twenty feet from in front of the masked man. "In my time crime still needed a champion. I took it upon myself to take up arms and a mask to strike at those that the federal men can't reach. I am known as the Green Hornet and villains know to fear my sting." He made sure to look him directly in the eyes. "Now you have to let Gordon go."

"But…" The Lone Ranger's weapon wavered in Gordon's direction.

"If you kill him, then these men will not let you travel to Michigan to find your nephew who you spend your last few weeks on this Earth with, telling him of your adventures as well as the silver mine that only you know the location to. He won't be able to use the silver to start a major newspaper publishing company, which I later run and use to get key information. I, also, won't learn of your adventures and be inspired to become the Green Hornet and fight crooks, murderers and mad scientists while saving hundreds of people. Is your vengeance worth leaving all the people in the future without the aid I have provided?"

"But…Tonto…"

"Has already been avenged," stated West. "Those thugs that killed Tonto did so under orders from Dr. Loveless, who you just killed a few moments ago."

The Lone Ranger looked from the shaky gun in his hand to the small twisted corpse of Dr. Miguelito Loveless. "I-I guess I did." Slowly he moved the gun back to its holster, and then began a coughing fit. He looked up and took off his mask revealing tears streaming down his cheeks. "I have a legacy after all."

The Green Hornet nodded, as he came over to help the legendary relative he had only heard about.

By the wagon, Larry, Moe and Curly had been stripped to their long underwear, as they had offered their clothes to many of the nude ladies that sought shelter at the wagon. A group of the ladies were wrapped together in the tarp which also provided a cover for some of them to dress behind when they got a stray piece of clothing.

Across the way over by the TARDIS, some of the more modest men were trying to hide from the eyes of the women behind the faux phone booth. A few tried to enter the door of the TARDIS by Kenny proved an effective deterrent with his machete in hand. Kenny's eyes scanned the scores of naked people for the bushy head of the Doctor. "Where is he?" muttered Kenny.

One member of the naked throng ran forward. Matthew Sikes laughed as he passed unclothed people and hurried toward the TARDIS. Seeing his fellow detective and partner unconscious on the ground he stopped and hurried over, shooing away some of the people staring at George's alien features. Turning George over, Matthew shook him a few times, and then attempted to slap him across the face. On the fifth slap, George managed to grab his hand and let out a groan.

"Are we home yet?"

Matthew laughed. "Not yet. But I think we will soon."

George's eyes fluttered open. "Matthew?"

"That's right, George."

"But the Borg-"

"-Are history. Don't know how. O'Brien said it was most likely Q intervening."

George slowly sat up, rubbing his neck painfully. "If he could have done this all along, then why….why don't you have any clothes on?" He glanced around as more of the spontaneous nudists were scattering to the brush. "Matthew?"

"I think it had something to do with getting rid of everything Borg," answered Sikes.

George grabbed at Matthew's arm. "If you had been turned into one of those drones, then your arm would have been removed for one of those weapon limbs they use."

Matthew stared at his arm. "That's weird. I've had a scar on the top of my hand from when I was a kid. It was from a football accident. A kid with spikes had stepped on my hand." He flexed his hand experimentally. "It feels good."

"As good as new?"

Matthew considered what his Tenctonese friend was implying. "Yeah. As good as new."

Nearby, Brisco greeted a friend. "Lord Bowler, looks like you are getting a little sun."

Bowler was too nervous to be embarrassed by his current state of unclothe. "Do you know what the hell happened here?"

"Yeah, but don't worry. It's over."

"No, it ain't over till I get my hands on Bly and strangle him half to dead and then letting the hangman finish the job."

Brisco tisked. "Too late. I already killed him."

"What?" Bowler said in disbelief. "He ambushed me! Knocked me out with my own gun! And stole my horse and hat! If anyone was going to kill him it should have been me!"

"Hey!" shouted back Brisco. "He killed my dad! If anyone had a right to shoot him it's me!"

Bowler's frown softened. "Oh, yeah. Forgot about that. At least tell me where his corpse is. I gotta get me some clothes."

Brisco had a momentary sickening feeling until he remembered that Bly had stolen a number of things off of Bowler. "Yeah, right this way."

A flash of light revealed Q in the midst of everything. There were a few shrill cries as the townsfolk scampered away, but those that knew Q stayed.

"It's about time you finished up here," Q said. "The Borg are still progressing in numerous other alternate realities while you have been lollygagging here. You know I can't send another team until you completed here.

"Q!" Chief Miles O'Brien hurried over with the still form of Nog in his arms. "You've got to help!"

Q groaned at the sight of Nog. "Oh, great! Sisko will probably blame me for this and take another swing at me."

"Are you going to help or not?" said the naked Chief engineer.

"I'm not allowed to do any spontaneous healing for my combatants," Q explained.

"But with the Borg gone from here you can send Nog to the Sickbay on Deep Space Nine. You can also put the Dax symbiote back in Ezri."

"Fine." Q snapped and the young Ferengi was gone.

"Hey!" came a yell from Kenny. "Any sign of the Doctor?"

O'Brien took a quick look around. "Nothing yet."

Huitzilopochtli Ramos and Janos Bartok stepped out of the TARDIS and stared at Q.

Q's eyebrows raised. "Oh, so it's this universe. I thought it looked familiar."

"What do you mean familiar?" asked O'Brien, as Ramos and Bartok came over. The resemblance of Janos Bartok and Q was incredible.

"It's nothing really," he said, trying to brush the subject aside. Seeing that O'Brien was not going to let it go, Q gave off a dramatic sigh. "If you must know, several years ago little mad scientist Janos Bartok over there had been working on an elaborate energy absorbent/dispersal device as I was passing through some nearby dimensions. My curiosity aroused, I peeked in to see what was going on not that he saw me. The event drew my interest to Humans and since it was he that basically introduced me to the species I fashioned my likeness into a resemblance of his form whenever I am among your kind. There. Is that simple enough for you?"

O'Brien's mind raced as he considered the implications. "Not really. Q, what are the odds of the Borg landing near where you originally found the template for your Human appearance?"

Q's eyes furrowed. "Considering all the alternate universes and sub-dimensions available in addition to the chronological gap in which it could occur, the exact number would be smaller than your mind could comprehend."

"So the Borg landing here must have been by design," commented Miles.

Q gasped, as surprise and rage crossed his face. "I've been set up!" he exclaimed just before he disappeared.

The Starfleet engineer shook his head. "I didn't get a chance to ask him what had happened to all the drones."

"I can answer that, chum," Moe said, strutting over in his long underwear. "We did it." His comrades, Larry and Curly followed behind also proud in their long underwear.

"You? Who are you?"

"They had worked for Dr. Loveless, but had helped us escape when they could finally do so safely" said Janos. "I had read some of the research Loveless had done on them which claimed remarkable abilities. But even his notes didn't hint at anything like what they are claiming now."

"Naw! It wasn't anything like that, Doc," Moe alleged, not fully understanding. "Tell 'em, Curly."

Curly stepped forward, obviously embarrassed, but quickly warmed to the attention. "Nyuk! Nyuk! Nyuk! You see it was like this. They came at us from all sides. Larry blocked 'em on the left. I stopped 'em on the right. And Moe, well, he got it in the middle."

Hearing this, Moe frowned angrily and kicked him from behind. "I'll tell it like it was, you moron!"

Curly, outraged, forgot himself, and pushed Moe, who landed in a fresh cow pie. Chasing antics commenced while Larry took over the telling of the story for the perplexed audience. "I saw the whole thing. Curly had picked up one of the large golden orbs and smashed into one of those drones which resulted in a white out worse than any snow storm that I had ever-"

Moe chased Curly around the TARDIS and then back to the group they had just left, where the dark-haired man tripped over one of the stunned cows and fell into Larry, thus interrupting Larry's dialog. Curly stood over his two friends laughing until he saw the look on their faces.

"Woo woo woo woo!" The robust man ran down the road away from Stockton with his two angry friends hot on his heels.

"Why do I feel we haven't heard the last of them?" commented Miles.

"Probably because they are indestructible," Jonas replied. "It's all in Loveless' notes," he said in explanation. "They just are too stupid to realize they can't be harmed."

"That would explain more than a few things," commented Huitzilopochtli Ramos, Jonas' lab assistant and friend.

A naked man with wild hair and wide eyes ran down the road from Stockton startling a number of former drones who hurried out of his way.

"Doctor!" Kenny shouted from the entrance of the TARDIS. "Over here!" As the Doctor ran over a number of the other fighters also came over to hear what was going on now.

"We have-" He paused to gasp for breath. "We have to stop them!"

Kenny passed him an extra scarf which the Doctor automatically put around his neck. "Uh, don't you think you should-"

"Get everyone on board the TARDIS! We must leave right away!"

"But why? We've stopped the Borg, didn't we?"

"You stopped the remaining Borg, and I'd love to hear how later, but we now have a bigger problem."

"How do we now have a bigger problem?" Kenny asked, alarm bells going off in his head.

"When the Borg Collective tried foraging through my memories, I was able to block them to an extent. However, they did get some key information and found a way to Gallifrey, which would normally be protected from such an attack. The newly re-born Borg queen took scores of drones there. They could take over everything."

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Our next saga of Borg battles will be the final one and located in that place some of us know as the LAND OF THE LOST, the 70's version. And since it is mentioned all the time on various shows I feel it is safe to use. Plus, I've made a connection between the Land of the Lost and Gallifrey! I've got some other surprises in the works, too.

I had it looking pretty bleak there in Stockton, but, let's face it they were facing the Borg. I know people won't be happy with Chakotay dying but I had been planning to have four of the Starfleet people die originally. I tamed it down a lot. I hope you liked how well Nog did with the Dax symbiote. He was unsure of himself at first and I think when push came to shove, I think I had him step up to plate in a very reasonable manner.

As for the golden orbs, which come from the show The Adventures of Brisco County Jr., I had not had an idea of how to get rid of the Borg on this world until some of the reviewers mentioned that the orbs could basically do whatever I wanted them to do. And since they are from the far future, why not use them to get rid of the Borg before they mess up the time stream completely.

Hope people loved the Three Stooges. I tried hard to get their characters right. And their being invulnerable but still able to feel pain does explain a lot of what that are able to put up with, don't ya think?

I played up Diefenbaker's part because it seemed to fit the wolf's personality. Besides, this was a western and you just have to almost always have a stampede in a western.

I realize that my little mystery of who killed Tonto wasn't the best. I had originally wanted to have a murder mystery in the 1930's WAR OF THE WORLD invasion but I had opted out of using that world as a Borg attack because I was trying to downsize my story epic.

For those who are still trying to figure it out, Janos Bartok (John de Lancie) was a scientist before his time who used a number of his gadgets to outfit Ernest Pratt a.k.a. Nicodemus Legend who was played by Richard Dean Anderson. I just had to include him considering the Q connection.

As for the nudity thing, I just thought it would be funny. Hope everyone was amused and not offended.


End file.
